


Red and Blue

by the_overlord



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Character Study, Everyone needs a friend, Jared is an ass but not forever, M/M, Mentions of Suicide and Depression, No one is alright, References to self-harm, Slow Burn, and that's alright, but with a bit more plot, the usual fandom warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22230319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_overlord/pseuds/the_overlord
Summary: Connor's colour is red.Evan's colour is blue.Reaching out is hard but it can give you something worth holding onto--AU. where you're born only able to see one colour and the rest of the world is monochrome. Touching your soulmate's skin for the first time instantly gives them your colour. And then over the next 24 hours you get the rest of them too.
Relationships: Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy
Comments: 146
Kudos: 487





	1. Chapter 1

Connor’s colour was red. 

When he was very young he’d had a steam engine in red. He’d carried it everywhere with him, rolling it along garden walls and railings as he trailed behind his parents. They couldn’t see the red. To them the steam engine was black and white and grey. There was no pink for Cynthia to see, no green for Larry to see. And they’d never been able to see anything else. 

Zoe couldn’t see the red either. To her it was black and white and grey, with two small yellow lights shining from the front of the carriage. They’d looked too much like eyes to her, so she’d never wanted to play with it. Connor had never minded that, it just meant that the steam engine was something he could keep to himself. 

At 16 it lived in a box under his bed gathering dust. It didn’t have much of a place in his world of black and white and grey but there was still a small part of him that couldn’t let it go. He told his mother he’d thrown it away, furiously storming out as soon as he noticed the tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t have any right to cry over his things. He told her that with the slam of the front door. 

But smoking on a park bench, shivering against the cold, he thought he could almost understand. Connor’s steam engine was the closest thing left to Connor’s childhood. It represented who he used to be, back before the world had taken root and twisted him up. But his mom just wanted to remember so that she didn’t have to face him now. She didn’t want him now. So she didn’t deserve him then. 

* * *

Evan’s colour was blue. 

It was his favourite colour but that was probably because it was the only one he could see. He liked the blue of the mailman’s bag, the blue stripes of his t-shirts, the peeling blue sign for Ellison State Park. 

His mother’s colour was purple, and he liked that too because sometimes if they got just the right shade, they could both see the same colour. There was a vase on the kitchen table, two frames in the living room, and a towel set in the bathroom. It was the strongest, most tangible connection he had to another person in the world. 

But sometimes the blue could overwhelm him. When the sky was clear and it was all he could see for miles and miles. At first it would feel like possibility, endless and promising, but then his brain would take that thought and break it apart, reminding him how small he really was and how big the world could be. He still loved the sky. He still loved the blue. It just felt like it wasn’t meant for him. 

And sometimes when he closed his eyes, he could still see the blue of a truck’s canopy. The blue of the air freshener that hung inside its cabin. The blue of his dad’s shoes that they could both now see but his mom still couldn’t. Evan hadn’t known it at the time, but there was a new woman out there who’d be able to see the blue, and his dad’s brown and every other colour she’d ever wanted to. 

* * *

‘Evan, sweetie?’ 

Evan startled at the knock on his door, dropping the comb he’d been holding. His reflection watched it fall, the small tuft of untameable hair still poking up at the back of his head. He crouched down and carefully picked the comb up from the floor, wiping it on his khakis before replacing it on his desk. It hadn’t really been helping anyway. 

His door clicked open and his mom appeared in the frame dressed for work. She smiled widely at him, but he wasn’t sure that it quite reached her eyes. Sometimes it did and that was nice. 

‘I’m heading out now, I’ve got the morning shift. But I could give you a ride to school if you wanted?’ 

Evan could see the bags under her eyes, more pronounced than they had been the day before. Dark, unforgiving shadows. She hadn’t slept well. If she went straight to the hospital she’d probably have time for a coffee in the breakroom before clocking in. She didn’t keep coffee in the house because Evan couldn’t have it. It made him jittery and worked him up until he had to sit in the dark of the closet to calm down. He drank juice and hot chocolate out of his blue mug now. 

‘No, that’s ok. I like the walk.’ 

His fingers found the hem of his shirt and tugged sharply once before running over the area to smooth out any creases. He did like the walk. He got to walk through the small park where the old ladies fed birds and the dog walkers ambled by. Sometimes there were a couple of children on the old tire swing and he felt better when he heard them laughing even if he always worried they were laughing at him. He didn’t like how sweaty the walk made him feel though. A bright grey sun had risen outside his window that morning and he knew that it was due to be a warm day. The car was air conditioned. If he walked he would have to make a break for the nearest bathroom as soon as he reached school to check he hadn’t sweated through his t-shirt. 

‘Are you sure? It’s no trouble and I’ve got class tonight so I’m not going to be back until late.’ 

‘No, it’s alright. You go ahead I still have some t-things to do before I leave.’ 

He bit his lip and looked away worried she’d be able to tell he was lying. 

‘Oh, ok. If you’re sure sweetie. I’ve got tomorrow off though. Do you want me to bring food home and we can watch that documentary you were talking about last week?’ 

Evan had already watched it, but he was pleased she remembered. 

‘Y-yeah, sounds great. Thanks mom.’ 

She crossed the floor, reaching out for his shoulders slowly giving him time to move away if he wanted to. Her smile brightened when he didn’t, letting her hold him at arm’s length for a second before she drew him into a quick hug. He felt her lips brush his hair as she pulled away. 

‘Today’s going to be a good day Evan.’ she said, meaning it. 

‘I know.’ Evan said back, not meaning it at all. 

‘I love you,’ she announced, grey eyes shining. His dad had said they were brown when Evan had asked. It was a family lunchtime a long time ago when family had meant more than just Evan and his mom. His dad had leant in to whisper to the pair of them conspiratorially that they were what had drawn him to Heidi in the first place. She’d blushed as he’d said it, holding Evan still on her lap. He’d reached over to brush the hair away from Evan’s forehead and told them that he had his mother’s eyes. 

‘I-I love you too,’ Evan echoed, but this time he did truly mean it. 

He settled on brushing his teeth again, listening for the sound of the front door closing and the car starting up before he shut the water off. Back in his room the alarm clock by his bed blinked as another minute passed by and with one last glance at the mirror, he picked up his bag and followed his mom out the door. 

It wasn’t until he reached the gate to the park that he noticed the sign taped to it. It was laminated but the lamination was curling at the edges, whether from the heat or poor application Evan didn’t know. He stood in front of it for a long moment, tugging at the hem of his shirt, before realising he needed to read it. 

**PARK CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE**

**_Southfern_ ** **_Park will be closed for emergency maintenance for 2 weeks. It will officially reopen at 7am on Monday 28_ ** **_ th _ ** **_September. We apologise for any inconvenience._ ** __

**FOR MORE INFORMATION PLEASE CONTACT THE TOWN HALL**

Evan read the sign three times before a girl on a bike rode past and broke his concentration. His lip hurt and he realised he’d bitten it too hard. It wasn’t bleeding though so he just prodded at the indents with flat fingers while he considered his options. It probably wasn’t a big deal. Even turning down the ride to school he’d left with plenty of time and the detour would only add 10 minutes to the walk. But it wasn’t in his plan and to have his routine messed up already felt like far too stressful a sign for the first day back to school. Maybe it was the world’s way of telling him he should turn around and go home. That the day was a write off and that he could try again tomorrow. 

But then he’d have to deal with his mom’s questions, and Jared would probably make some crude, mortifying joke about masturbating so hard he got stuck to the bed, and his teachers would be mad that he was already behind on his work and that would be even worse. Swallowing thickly he turned away from the park gate and went left instead, heading towards the significantly nicer part of town. 

He didn’t come that way a lot. The town centre was the other way down the hill, and it wasn’t like he had any friends to visit, let alone ones who lived up sweeping driveways and manicured front lawns. The blacks and white and greys looked brighter, fresher somehow than they did in his neighbourhood and he wondered what colours they really were. Turning down another street Evan noticed how peaceful it was, the noise of the freeways almost imperceptible like he’d stepped into a bubble. Instead of wailing children and idling cards he could hear the gentle hum of a lawnmower, rising and falling as it was pushed across the grass. He ducked his head and watched out of the corner of his eye as one of the doors just ahead of him opened. A man stepped out, monochrome suit pressed neatly and hair perfectly set. In the doorway a woman stood, all skirts and smiles with a toddler on her hip. She leant forward to brush a kiss to the man’s cheek, saying something Evan couldn’t hear, but the man tilted his head back and laughed before reaching forward to ruffle the toddler’s hair. And even as his chest ached Evan thought that maybe this road was even better than the park. 

A door slammed and the bubble popped. 

On the other side of the road a black shadow spilled down the driveway. Evan paled as he recognised Connor Murphy, scowling and wrapped in the storm cloud he always carried with him. Ducking his head until his chin touched his chest, Evan hurried his pace hoping to go unnoticed. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing over though and his step faltered as he found Connor looking back at him. 

He was still on his driveway, one hand buried in the pocket of his hoodie and the other holding a cigarette. Even as Evan watched, frozen and unable to look away, Connor’s mouth opened and a cloud of smoke billowed out, pausing to hang in the air before dissipating. Evan realised he'd stopped and was standing, just staring at Connor as the other boy stared back. His palms began to sweat. He wished he’d just kept walking but it was too late for that now. That would be weird. Which was probably fine because everyone knew Evan was weird. But it would also be rude, and Evan didn’t like to be rude. 

Connor hadn’t moved. A small wisp of smoke curled up from the cigarette, forgotten as his eyes remained fixed on Evan. Tentatively, Evan raised a hand in greeting, remembering too late about his cast. When Connor still didn’t move Evan cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. 

‘H-hi’ 

He noticed his hand was still raised so he dropped it to his side, pulling at his hem again to calm himself down. Still Connor didn’t react and Evan could feel his breathing speed up. He thought of cartoon quicksand, of the fools who wandered into it only to realise slightly too late that they’d made a mistake. Quicksand was a slow, painful death. You had time to panic and cry and wonder what you could have done differently. Evan thought he knew exactly what a slow death by quicksand was like. He thought it was a lot like waving at Connor Murphy. 

Then Connor let the cigarette drop from his hand, bringing his boot down to stamp it out violently. He kept eye contact with Evan as he did it, and Evan wondered if it was meant to be a threat. It was working regardless. And then Connor was in his car, bass slamming through the open window as he peeled out of the drive. He didn’t look at Evan when he passed him.


	2. Chapter 2

Evan made it through his first day with very few notable events.

Jared had hit him with a few verbal punches as soon as he’d left the bathroom, content he hadn’t sweated through his shirt too badly. His shotgun laugh echoed through the hallway as Evan stumbled over denials and desperately tried to quiet him down.

None of his teachers had noticed him for long enough to call on him in any of his lessons, and his peers hadn’t bothered to break their steak of ignoring him to ask him about his summer. By his final class he’d taken to running his hand over his cast and weighing up whether it would be worse to have to ask strangers to sign it or to return home and have to suffer through his mom’s pitying glances as she took in the blank plaster.

Maybe he could bribe Jared into signing it, but he didn’t really want to have to talk about how he’d broken his arm with him again. And Jared thought it was hilarious which meant that he would bring it up as often as he possibly could. He wondered whether Jared would still find it funny if he told him the truth. He didn’t think Jared was that much of an asshole, but he never wanted to find out. He briefly considered asking Zoe, pretty confident that she was nice enough to do it even if it was awkward, but memories of Connor Murphy’s laser focused frown cut through any notion that that was a good idea. He liked the school nurse, he could ask her. But that probably wasn’t what his mom had meant when she’d suggested getting people to sign his cast and he was pretty sure the nurse only worked until 2pm on Mondays anyway. He didn’t like the receptionist who covered emergencies in her absence.

He sighed as the final bell rang, closing his eyes and resting his head on his arms as the other students started pushing their chairs out from under their desks. It always took him a moment to get used to the steadily rising volume and he hated getting caught up in the crowds. It wasn’t like he had anywhere to be.

Once the room had cleared he carefully packed his bag and wandered out into the hallway. He had an hour to waste before he had to leave for his appointment at his therapist’s office. His mom had said it was good that Dr Sherman was only round the corner from his school but it made him nervous knowing that one of his classmates might see him going into the building and tell everyone in the school that he was in therapy.

The letter. He hadn’t done the letter.

Biting at his nail Evan changed course from the library to the computer room, hoping it was still unlocked. He hadn’t had to use it after school before. He sighed in relief when he found the room unlocked and empty, several of the desktops still illuminated on the log in screen. With time on his side he took a moment to decide on the best seat, finally settling at a desk where he could see the door and anyone passing by would be able to see him and wouldn’t lock him in the room by accident.

Evan was still staring at the first line of his letter, unable to think of anything to say, when the door hit the wall and he jolted, eyes shooting up to meet Connor Murphy’s for the second time that day.

**_Dear Evan Hansen,_ **

**_Today’s not going to be a good day because Connor Murphy might actually try to kill you._ **

Ignoring the voice in his head Evan averted his eyes, resting his hands on the keyboard as a distraction but he was too nervous to actually type anything. Memories of the morning were still fresh in his mind and he had no desire to relive the horrors anew. He’d hoped that Connor might leave when he saw him, but he shuffled further into the room, collapsing into one of the swivel chairs at the nearest desk. Even without looking up Evan could tell he was still being watched.

‘What? I don’t get a greeting this time?’ His voice was flat and Evan instantly panicked wondering if he’d somehow managed to mess up even more.

‘Um, yeah. O-of course. Sorry. H-hello.’ Evan winced as he heard his voice shake.

‘I was kidding, relax.’ Conner had found a paperclip somewhere and was studiously unwinding it. With his attention temporarily taken, Evan looked up. The legend of Conner was standard throughout school. The older kids told the younger kids all kinds of made up stories to scare them, and the rumour mills never failed to grind him up whenever they were having a slow day, but Evan had been around him long enough to know that at least some of them were true. The printer in 2nd grade was true, the graffiti on Mr Rector’s car was true and the fight in the corridor the year before between Connor and three other guys had definitely been true too. Connor’s face had looked like spilt ink for weeks afterwards, and he’d worn his hood up every day despite the heat. He hadn’t hidden his equally bruised knuckles though, and Evan thought that perhaps he was proud of them.

‘Oh, y-yeah. It was funny.’

‘No it wasn’t.’

The paperclip was just a length of wire and Connor threw it aside as he turned his attention back to Evan.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked, and it took Evan a moment to realise he wasn’t being accused of something and Connor was actually trying to start a conversation with him. He watched the little cursor on the screen blink 4 times before settling on.

‘Writing.’

‘Writing what?’

His mind panicked as he considered the best thing to say. If he said it was homework Connor might ask what it was for and through his sudden mind fog, Evan couldn’t remember a single class he’d attended that day. If he said he was writing a story then Connor might ask what it was about and that would involve a level of quickfire lying that he knew he really wasn’t up to. If he said he was writing a letter Connor might ask who it was to and he had no desire to explain that he was so messed up that he was in forced communication with himself.

‘S-stuff?’ he settled on.

‘You sound really sure about that.’ Connor’s legs dropped from where they’d been propped up on the desk and suddenly he was behind Evan, one hand resting on the back of Evan’s chair, and squinting at the screen.

‘Dear Evan Hansen, today is going to be a good day because…’ he read it out loud and Evan winced, thoroughly glad he hadn’t managed to think of anything more to write before Connor had burst in. He shuffled to the side a little, swivelling his chair so that Connor’s hand dropped away. He didn’t seem to notice.

‘Oh shit,’ Connor said, ‘this is one of those therapy letters, right?’

Shocked, Evan glanced back at the side of Connor’s face, wondering how on earth he’d worked it out so quickly. Sensing Evan’s question, Connor hopped up onto the desk to face Evan. One foot flat on the desk’s surface with his knee bent and the other dangling so that his toes brushed the floor. Evan wanted to ask him to take his foot off the table but he didn’t dare.

‘They made me do tons of those things. _Dear Connor Murphy, today’s going to be a fantastic day because today my mom’s going to stop searching my room for drugs and my dad’s going to stop reading my emails and saying I need to grow out of this ‘depressive phase’ and Zoe’s going to stop being such a bitch all the time and I’m going to meet a god damn fucking unicorn who’s going to grant me 3 wishes and make me a real boy after all._ They’re a load of shit.’

‘M-my mom says,’ Evan swallowed, ‘my mom says that they’ll help.’

Connor smirked at him, reaching up to push a lock of hair behind his own ear. It was the first time Evan had seem him do anything other than frown or scowl or look terribly lost.

‘Your mom is either lying to you or lying to herself.’

Evan didn’t have a response to that so he didn’t say anything, unsure of how he’d even ended up having the conversation with Connor Murphy in the first place. It was almost refreshing though, to hear from someone who understood, even a little bit, how frustratingly fake the letters seemed.

‘I can tell you how to get them to stop asking you to write them if you want?’

The smirk was back and Evan instinctively knew it wasn’t going to be helpful advice. It was like when Jared offered to help him with something, it was never actually going to be helpful and often served to stress Evan out ten times more. Even so, he nodded, curious despite himself at what Connor had to say.

‘Porn.’ Which wasn’t what Evan was expecting to come out of the other boy’s mouth.

‘W-what?’

‘Write about porn. Like _Dear Evan Hansen, today’s going to be a good day because today I watched two people really going at it and it reaffirmed my faith in humanity. He was so giving and her praise was so supportive it brought a tear to my eye. I would have wiped it away but my hands were a little busy._ They really don’t like that kind of stuff. I think the doc might have actually burned my last letter. Pro tip, they hated the guy on guy stuff the most I think. Fucking homophobes.’

Evan’s cheeks were burning.

‘I-I don’t think I c-can do that.’

‘You want me to do it for you? I kind of miss fucking with them.’

Connor made no move towards the keyboard, but Evan pulled it closer anyway, just in case. Noticing, Connor shrugged and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

‘You want to smoke?’

‘I-I don’t think you can smoke in here.’

Evan was certain you couldn’t smoke in the computer room, or on school property at all for that matter, but he really didn’t want Connor to get mad at him.

‘Your arm’s broken, not your legs Hansen.’

Connor gestured to window where the sports field was spread out below them. There were leaves skipping across it, pushed around by an afternoon breeze, but there wasn’t a soul to be seen. Beyond it the winding streets tumbled down into the town, streets he knew well but that had never really known him. Evan’s grip on the keyboard tightened as he imagined being brave enough to say yes. To do something he knew was not allowed. Something that no one would ever expect him to do. It felt like a terrible and exhilarating idea all in one. The sky was blue, very, very blue.

‘I h-have to finish the letter, the therapy a-assignment, before my session, appointment, thing. So I-I can’t go. With you.’ He trailed off, head nodding as he stared at the zip of Connor’s hoodie instead of meeting his eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’ He added hastily.

Connor sighed. Under the expected frustration it sounded almost resigned, but Evan didn’t look up to see if he could see that in his face too.

‘Chill out Hansen, I’m not going to force you to do shit you obviously don’t want to.’ He spat the words as he pushed himself off the desk. Evan had expected the judgement, but there was a rising edge to his voice, sharper than it had been seconds before. It felt a lot like staring down sudden storm clouds as they flashed and crackled with caged lightning, waiting for the inevitable thunder to tear through the air. Evan wasn’t a big fan of storms, especially when he felt like it was his fault they’d come.

‘You’re obviously busy, I’ll leave you alone.’ The thunder sounded hurt to Evan, and he frowned because he didn’t know you could hurt thunder. He didn’t know you could hurt Connor Murphy.

‘No-no you’re not in my way. I-I’m sorry. I’m not – I wouldn’t – I _didn’t_ mean it like that. I just told my mom I-I-I’d do this and if I don’t Dr Sherman will tell her that I didn’t and then she’ll ask me why I didn’t do it because I told her I did it and – and – and I don’t want her to be mad at me. But you, you don’t have to go. I-I really don’t mind you staying. Here. With me. If you want to.’ He tried to smile but his lip felt too wobbly so he wasn’t really sure it worked. At some point during his spiel he’d looked back up to Connor’s face, the blank, unfeeling mask back in place. He wore it well, like he’d worn it for so long that it might as well be a part of him. Shocked, Evan realised that Connor had come into the room without it. And Evan had forced him back into it.

‘Do you want to sign my cast?’

His voice shook but he didn’t stutter. His hummingbird heart thrummed in his chest. Evan tried to smile again and thought he may have come closer to making it convincing, because Connor’s mask cracked, just a little, and he nodded. He was still tentative as he watched Evan fumble through his bag for a sharpie. He rolled his eyes when Evan dropped the pen, the mask slipping a little more, before he pulled his own marker out of his pocket and uncapped it with his teeth.

Connor’s grip was solid against the plaster and his hand was sure as he pulled the pen across the ridges in long, sweeping lines. When he let go Evan looked down, staring at the upside-down letters with a dizzying hit of horror and awe. They were so big, taking up the entire cast and Evan could already feel the confused, probing stares of his classmates, the cackling accusations Jared would launch the second he saw it. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to resent it because Connor was smiling, just a ghost about his lips as he took in his handywork, and without even knowing it he’d written his name on Evan in blue.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those wondering and asking I’ve had a thing about Connor ‘looking at’ and ‘seeing’ Evan ever since I saw the show for the second time and realised that he was the only one who faced Evan during Waving Through a Window. That fucking killed me.

Connor retreated to his desk after that, pulling out a crumpled notebook. Evan was pleased that he’d managed to convince the storm to calm though his body still felt a little shaky from the attempt. He thought maybe Connor looked a little shaky too as he bent his head low over the notebook pages. It was calming to know he wasn’t the only one struggling across this new landscape they’d found themselves on.

Connor, he mused, lived like he was used to hostile environments. He expected thorns and nettles and constricting vines so he’d learned to walk like they didn’t hurt him even if he came out sharper and more dangerous than they ever were. Evan could picture the trees in his world, wild and unruly and woven together into a canopy so thick the sun barely got through anymore. No one ever considered how lonely it must be to be the most feared beast in the jungle, did they?

Evan understood isolation though. Because Evan’s world was an island. And there were so many islands around him, coming and going on friendly tides, but Evan had never really grasped how to swim without drowning and his island was too cold and empty for anyone to bother coming to him. He just sat and watched the world go by without him.

But for whatever reason, Connor was closer than anyone has been in a long time. Close enough that it felt like Evan could reach his hand out and for once someone would be able to reach back for him.

He just needed to take the step.

His letter was four lines long and as vague as he could make it by the time the alarm on his phone went off with a soft beep, reminding him to leave for his appointment. He sent the document to print, Connor shifting in his periphery, but when Evan looked around, he was bent back over his notebook, hair hiding his face.

Quietly Evan packed up, wondering if Connor was going to acknowledge him again or whether their strange little interaction was over. Whether the tides had already carried Connor too far away from Evan like it did with everyone else. Connor didn’t look up when Evan passed his desk, hesitating slightly before moving towards the door. He was halfway out before he stopped again, fiddling with his hem as he bit down on his lip. It just needed to be a step. It didn’t have to be anything more than that. Just one, small step.

‘Connor?’ it was the first time he’d said his name out loud. Connor looked round warily, his mask not quite back in place enough to hide the emotion just below it. What that emotion was however, Evan couldn’t tell. When it became clear he wasn’t going to respond Evan swallowed thickly.

‘T-thank you for signing my cast. See you – see you tomorrow?’

He tugged on his shirt hard enough that one of the threads unravelled a little in his fingers. He tried to keep eye contact with Connor but he couldn’t do it for more than two seconds at a time, his eyes flicking to the window, the ceiling, the wall before settling back on the other boy’s face and starting the cycle again.

‘Yeah,’ Connor cleared his throat, ‘no problem Han- Evan. Enjoy your mind-numbing therapy. See you around.’

He turned away again, back to his notebook, but Evan thought he saw a smile as he left.

* * *

The next day blew in more overcast than the last. Black grey clouds drew in and covered the bright grey sun casting everything into inky shadow. Evan watched the tightly suited man on the news forecast a storm as he nibbled on a crust of toast. His mom was still in the kitchen packing up the text books she’d been pouring over as she spooned cereal into her mouth.

The weatherman disappeared to be replaced by the hulking man who shouted the sport news every morning and Evan reached over to turn the tv off. It was still too early to leave for school, but he was ready all the same, bag neatly packed at his shoed feet. It was still too warm for a sweatshirt, but he’d packed one anyway at his mom’s insistence.

His eyes fell on Connor’s name, the block letters so hard to miss. He’d looked at himself in the mirror the night before staring at them, feeling small behind them, but in the light of morning they felt different somehow. They felt strong. Maybe it was the way his mom had smiled so happily when she’d seen them. Maybe it was the blue that only he could see. Either way the letters felt like a shield, big and strong enough to hide behind. It was a lot of responsibility to give a word. He hoped Connor wouldn’t mind. He’d probably never know.

Feeling agitated Evan stood, pulling his bag with him. He drifted into the kitchen to let his mom pull him into a hug and give him his morning pep talk, before he left the house and began his new walk to school.

Connor wasn’t on his driveway.

His car was still in its place and there were lights on further up the house. Checking his phone Evan figured it was probably still too early for Connor to be heading to school and for a moment Evan imagined crossing the street to knock for him. He imagined Connor answering with a sneer. He imagined Connor answering with a smile. He imagined Zoe answering, his mom, his dad. He imagined no answer. By the time he was done imagining, Connor’s house was far behind him and he was glad he hadn’t had the courage to cross the road.

The halls were still fairly empty by the time he made it in. Only the kids with early morning extra curriculars or carpooling parents who worked further out of town were milling around and Evan easily made it to his locker without having to talk to anyone. He’d winced a little when he’d heard Alana Beck’s commanding voice echo from the end of the corridor, but she’d marched straight past him, accosting some other poor soul with her well-meaning, terrifying vitriol.

He hadn’t been so lucky when Jared had swaggered into the corridor.

Evan was double checking his new timetable to make sure he had the right books when someone slapped a hand against the locked next to his making him jump. He shut the locker door, turning to frown at Jared’s grinning face.

‘Are you trying to glare at me Evan? Cute. You’re about as threatening as cotton wool.’

‘H-hi Jared.’

Jared rolled his eyes, hoisting his backpack further up his shoulder.

‘Yeah yeah, look, my mom mentioned she hasn’t seen you in a while which means she’s probably thinking about the deal we made, which means my car insurance is probably in jeopardy, so I told her we were hanging out Thursday night. I’m assuming that’s cool with you because you have no life, so I’ll drive you to mine after school and we’ll – what the fuck is that?’

Evan reeled for a moment as the tone shifted before he noticed where Jared’s eyes had landed. He was staring, slack mouthed at Evan’s cast. Protectively, Evan pulled the cast to his chest, cradling it a little even as his cheeks flared with heat.

‘My cast?’ he said, knowing it was useless trying to avoid the conversation. Jared jabbed a finger at it, eyes oddly frantic when they met Evan’s.

‘Tell me ‘Connor’ is not _Connor Murphy_.’

‘W-well.’

‘Oh shit, why the hell has the school psychopath signed your cast Evan? How did that even happen?’

Evan really didn’t want to deal with the accusing tone in Jared’s voice, loud enough that the steadily filling hall was starting to take note. He felt hot and sweaty, his palms were itching, and Jared was standing just a little too close for Evan’s personal panic bubble.

‘You shouldn’t say t-that. He’s – he’s not a psychopath.’ Evan said with unexpected force. He didn’t remember telling himself to say it. Jared hesitated for a second, maybe shocked that Evan had actually argued the point with him. It wasn’t enough to throw him off completely though.

‘Nah, I’m pretty sure he is. Printer. Thrown at teacher. That’s real psychopathic shit right there, Evan.’

The hall was suddenly teeming with people, homeroom only 20 minutes away, and Evan knew he wasn’t going to win the argument with Jared even if he could get the right words out. Even if he knew what the right words were. His fingers inched towards his hem, but before they reached it, they stopped at his cast, suddenly needing to feel the plaster below his fingertips instead.

‘I-I-I need to go. There’s – I’ve – I need to get something. A b-book. From the library. For class.’

With that garbled excuse he shuffled around Jared and headed down the hall, hoping it was the right way to the library. He kept his head down, sure that everyone was watching him, judging him. He didn’t look up until he’d pushed through the library door and the screaming in his head had calmed to a gentle roar.

Evan forced himself further into the library, away from the squinting eyes of the librarian until he found an empty table. As he slumped into the hard, plastic chair, he lay his cheek on the cool wood and closed his eyes. There was a universe out there, somewhere in the multiverse, where he wasn’t such a mess. There was a version of him who could handle a conversation without freaking out, who could answer back without spiralling into panic, who could smile without thinking about every way he’d ever failed. He wished that was his universe. But that Evan wouldn’t be hiding alone in the library. That Evan wouldn’t be running from the only friend – _family friend_ – he’d ever had, because that Evan would have so many friends. Real friends. That weren’t bribed into being around him. That didn’t delight in his discomfort.

That Evan wouldn’t be alone.

The chair opposite him made a noise as it was pulled back and Evan shot up. He wondered if he’d ever not be surprised to find Connor looking back at him.

‘Just me. Relax, Hansen’

‘You say that like it’s easy.’ He said without thinking, startling them both. Connor choked on a laugh, light behind his eyes Evan hadn’t seen before and he found himself only regretting the words a little.

‘How was therapy?’

Connor’s feet were back on the table, black boots trailing undone laces, and Evan cast a nervous glance over his shoulder, tracking the librarian as she pecked around the bookshelves on the other end of the room. How did Connor not care? How was it that easy for him?

‘G-good. I-it was good.’

‘Really?’

‘No. I-it was weird. Not bad – it wasn’t bad but, like, I-I-I always feel like they don’t, they don’t _get_ it, me. Y-you know?’

Connor shrugged.

‘Yeah I get it. It’s like they want to fix you and shit but they won’t even admit you’re broken. They think it’ll make us more damaged to hear it out loud, like we’re not fully aware we’re messed up. They’ve got all these big words and fancy terms for it but it doesn’t feel big or fancy when it’s _your_ fucked up life, right?’

And maybe he would have done it without the swearing but the funny thing was that that was exactly how Evan felt. Like the people around him were too scared to tell him he was broken, but treated him like he was anyway. Like they knew all the words to say and the science behind it, but they never really looked at him and saw a real person. They pitied him but he didn’t want their pity. He just wanted to feel normal.

‘T-there’s no magic switch to n-normal.’ Evan said staring down at his hands, ‘and no one wants to change what normal means to include people like me – us – me – sorry. So, we’re always going to be not normal, so – so what’s the point of try-trying if the goal is impossible? I’ve tried to fit in for, for years and I’m further away than when I started. They haven’t helped me, they haven’t fixed me, they just remind me every day that I’m not normal, won’t be normal, _can’t_ be normal.’

He picked at his cuticle, breathing slightly too heavily. He didn’t want to look up, so he decided not to. There was a thump as Connor’s feet slipped back onto the floor and then another jolt as Connor leant forward with his elbows on the table.

‘Should I be asking if you’re alright?’

‘I-I’m fine.’

The answering scoff was entirely disbelieving.

‘I’m not complaining, I’m just surprised. I didn’t know you had it in you to be critical of someone at all, let alone twice in one day.’

‘T-twice?’

Evan did look up at that, taking in the smirk, the intensity behind the eyes, Connor’s proximity. For once it didn’t feel stifling. For once it was welcome. Like the day before, Evan noticed with no small amount of pride that Connor’s mask wasn’t on and he was letting Evan see something he didn’t freely give.

‘Yeah, heard you shutting down Kleinman in the hall.’

And there was warmth, definite warmth in Connor’s voice despite the smirk still on his face and Evan had no idea what to do with it. It felt too delicate and precious for his clumsy hands to be trusted with, but selfishly he knew it wanted to keep it. It made him feel like he’d done something right for once.

‘He shouldn’t say stuff. Like that. A-about you.’

‘People do.’ Connor responded, shrugging again. A strand of dark hair fell across his forehead and he pushed it back roughly.

‘But they – they shouldn’t.’

‘I’m the school freak, they’re always going to. At least they’re scared of me too so I get to see them shit themselves when I confront them about it.’

Instinctively Evan reached for Connor’s wrist before instantly rethinking it. His hand stopped short, slapping onto the table, his fingers brushing the fabric of Connor’s hoodie. Surprisingly soft.

‘Y-you you’re not a freak Connor.’ He said softly, fingertips twitching against warm cotton.

There was a long pause, long enough that Evan began to wonder if he’d messed up and said the wrong thing again. When Connor did finally speak, his voice was lower, more careful than it had been.

‘I’m always going to be a freak here Hansen. It’s just how people see me. I could cure cancer or save 1000 orphaned kittens from an axe murderer and I’d still get called a psycho in the halls. It’s too late to change that. I’m a freak whether I want to be or not. Sometimes it’s just easier to lean into it.’ He snapped a hairband against his wrist and Evan noticed his nails were black. He wondered whether they were really black or whether they were some other, darker shade he couldn’t see.

‘At least you’re not the o-only freak.’ Evan managed, the word tasting less sour on his tongue than it ever had before. People didn’t say it to him like they did to Connor, but he’d heard it enough times, carried on ineffective whispers traded between gossiping lips. It didn’t hurt less to take them in the back, but he imagined it was easier to hide how much the words affected you if no one was staring you down as they said them. He managed to hold Connor’s eye for five seconds before he was forced to look away, eyeline skittering across the bookshelves. In the hallway the warning bell began to ring, muffled in the speaker-less library. Evan reached down to grab his bag, pulling it into his lap. Connor still looked thoughtful though so he hesitated, waiting to see if anything else would come. Finally, Connor said,

‘The solidarity of the freaks, huh? That’s fucking sad isn’t it?’ but he laughed as he said it, eyes bright and white teeth flashing, and Evan didn’t think it sounded sad at all, he thought it was one of the best things he’d ever heard.


	4. Chapter 4

When Evan woke the following morning, he knew something had changed. Through foggy eyes and a groggy mind he slowly tuned into the roar of wind against the loose shingle on the roof. When he stumbled to the window, fumbling with the blind cord, he was startled by the violent rain pelting the streets outside. The storm had well and truly rolled in.

The weather didn’t let up as he showered and dressed, it didn’t let up as he crunched through breakfast staring at the writhing trees outside, and it only seemed to worsen as he laced up his shoes and waved his mom off as she apologetically told him she’d been called in early.

Stepping out into the downpour, Evan was soaked in seconds. He huddled into his raincoat, shivering despite the humidity still hanging in the air, and wished he had thicker shoes. He thought about Connor’s shoes and bet they’d do well against expanding puddles and sodden grass. He was just past the park when a car clipped the corner spraying him with muddy water up to his knees. He stumbled on his next step, shocked at the sudden cold, before hurrying on, frowning at the drag of sodden fabric against his legs. He’d have to sit for hours damp and miserable. People would probably laugh at him when they noticed. At the proof that he wasn’t rich enough to have a car. That he wasn’t responsible enough to have his licence, that he wasn’t cool enough to have friends to pick him up. Belatedly he thought about Jared and the car insurance that kept the other boy in his orbit, but he wasn’t sure Jared would have bothered driving 15 minutes out of his way just to chauffeur Evan to school. Even if his car insurance was at risk.

Evan was still considering whether Jared could be persuaded to drop him home when the sound of a horn broke his concentration. Wide eyed, Evan peered through the deluge, realising he’d turned onto Connor’s road at some point, lost in thought. In fact, he’d just passed Connor’s house. In fact, it was Connor’s car that was honking at him so alarmingly.

‘Get in the car, Hansen.’

Connor’s voice was quiet, mostly snatched up by the wind and tossed away, but his violent gesturing made the point just as well. Evan looked down at his soaking raincoat, drenched khakis and waterlogged shoes and knew what the right thing to do was. In the ten steps to Connor’s passenger seat, Evan managed to step into a bank of muddy grass and smear filth across his right shoe. He slipped trying to pull away from the mess and sank his left shoe into a steadily filling pothole. He felt truly pathetic by the time he reached the door, forgoing the handle to lean into the glass and the small gap Connor had opened.

‘I don’t want to get your car wet Connor. But t-thank you for offering.’

A loose droplet slipped from his hood and splashed against his eyelashes sending Connor’s frowning face into fragmented shards. Evan wiped it away with the back of his hand, only smudging water with more water, too distracted to hear the door click before he was forced backwards.

‘I said get in, Evan. Fuck the car.’

Evan had never been good at turning down instructions, especially not repeated ones. He sighed happily as he slid into the passenger seat, the barrage of rain instantly gone, and the cacophony of sound suddenly muffled. Still he squelched wetly in place as he settled, and he couldn’t help but wince at the sound casting a glance in Connor’s direction to see if he’d noticed and was regretting letting Evan anywhere near him. His eyes were still on the road, but he flapped a hand in Evan’s direction when he noticed the furtive glance.

‘It’s just water, don’t freak yourself out about it.’

‘I have mud on my shoe.’ Evan inexplicably volunteered.

‘Lucky you.’ The car shuddered as Connor pressed on the break to let a woman run across the street, the bag held over her head doing little to protect her from the rain. With a flick of Connor’s wrist the heater closest to Evan whirred to life, hot puffs of air seeping into the car.

‘There’s mud in the c-car now too.’ Peering down at the foot well Evan could see the smear of mud and grass he’d tracked in with him. He wondered if Connor would have to clean it himself or whether he paid someone to do it for him. Maybe he should offer though he didn’t really know anything about cleaning cars.

‘That’s nice.’ Connor chipped in before Evan could formulate the offer. Evan felt the tick in his heart start to calm as it dawned on him how truly unbothered Connor was that he’d let a wet, muddy Evan into his dry, clean car. He wasn’t being nice or pretending it was ok. He actually didn’t care.

‘T-thank you for letting me – for driving. With me. In the- in the car. Thanks.’

They turned onto the main road and Connor laughed, a sound that started in his chest and resonated low in his throat.

‘Yeah, well you looked kind of pathetic. It was like leaving a dog out in the rain. Even I can’t do that shit.’

Evan unfortunately could see the comparison. He’d pushed his hood down when he’d gotten into the car but the wind had been so unrelenting that it hadn’t been much use even when it was up. His face felt cold and his fringe was plastered to his forehead. He wanted to shake like a damp dog. He wondered if that would make Connor laugh or get him kicked out of the car. He still didn’t quite get the other boy, he still didn’t understand how they’d fallen into this – was it even a friendship? That was probably a question best saved for another day when Evan had the time and solitude to really think it through. But he was getting closer to working it out. He could feel it.

It was like the barest flicker of a flame. Something bright and hot that Evan hadn’t seen or felt in a long while. It had bloomed to life when Connor had reached out in the computer room, like a torch being passed and he couldn’t answer why he had it, why Connor had chosen to share it with him of all people when everyone else who got anywhere near it got singed. But he wasn’t going to complain that for once he wasn’t getting burned. He cupped his mind around the spark, trying his best to shield it from the wind of the world.

He was pulled out of his own meandering, incomprehensible thoughts when Connor pulled around a tight corner too fast, and Evan realised they’d reached the school. For a moment he worried that Connor would think he was rude, having ignored him for the entire 10 minute drive, but when he snuck a glance to properly gauge the situation he realised Connor was humming something under his breath, eyes fixed on the road. Evan couldn’t pick out the tune, doubted it was a song he’d ever heard before, but it filled the silence comfortably and he found himself wanting to tap his fingers along to the melody. He didn’t though.

The rain was still pouring, staccato thrumming echoing around Connor’s noise like an underlying beat to the song. It was an effortless calm that he usually spent his days chasing. More often than not it slipped across his fingertips, lost in an abyss of insecurity and anxiety. But for once Evan had caught it, sodden and chilled, water seeping through the upholstery of Connor Murphy’s nice car. He’d never dreamed there could be anything close to peace in a moment like that. But there it was.

The engine cut out and Connor fell silent with it. For a moment they stayed where they were staring at the muddy grey building obscured by lashing sheets of rain. There were a few students breaking for the entrance on their left. Even the few steps would leave them soaking.

‘I didn’t bring an umbrella.’ Connor said dourly, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. For the first time Evan noticed it was slightly damp, curling at the ends.

‘Me neither.’

‘You’re already soaked.’

‘I kind of dried a bit. In the car.’

Connor glanced over at him, pointing accusingly at Evan’s dripping hair. A traitorous drop rolled down Evan’s cheek, slipping into the crease of his lips. He licked it away.

‘Let’s just ditch. I can’t be fucked with any of this today.’

Evan could feel Connor’s eyes on the side of his face, but he didn’t look away from the windshield. The air felt heavier, like the storm had suddenly slipped over them, catching them in its eye as the pressure built. The calm retreated, replaced by a rigidity that moulded itself to his bones as realisation settled in. This had to be a test. A test to see if Evan was cool enough. A test to see if Evan was worth it.

He knew he wasn’t.

The few sparse trees littering the parking lot bent under the strain of the wind. Their lower branches brushed loose gravel as it skittered across cement, dipping in and out of expanding puddles. Twisting his fingers into the tacky plastic of his raincoat, Evan’s eyes darted to the glowing lights on the dashboard, careful not to look at Connor. He didn’t want to say no. But he knew he couldn’t say yes.

His mind snagged on how angry Connor had been when he’d thought Evan hadn’t wanted to talk to him that day in the computer room. He’d been angry and hurt and loud. How angry would he get when Evan turned down his invite again? Would he think Evan was trying to reject him? Would he be angry enough to yell at Evan? Call him names? Walk away?

Never talk to him again?

The idea clawed at his throat, the familiar nails of irrational panic scratching through him. He hated how quickly the insecurity bubbled through him. How it could twist him so easily and make itself the only reality that Evan could believe in. Desperately he searched for something, something that might save him from the inevitable. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go back to being all alone.

‘I-it might clear up.’ he mumbled quietly, swallowing around the quiver in his voice. There was a thump and Evan winced, wondering for a second if he’d been hit. But he didn’t feel anything and when he turned Connor’s forehead was resting on the steering wheel. After a beat he tipped his head in Evan’s direction, a sharp smile in place.

‘Yeah, I didn’t think that would work.’

He said it with a shrug, like it didn’t even matter, and Evan could almost believe it didn’t. That was _it_. No anger, no pain, no walking away. He didn’t even seem annoyed, he just looked tired.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I fucking hate it when you apologise.’

‘S-sor –‘

Connor laughed, head lifting from the steering wheel. The skin on his forehead was a darker shade of grey, and Evan wondered how hard he had hit it. If it hurt. His hand twitched like it wanted to reach out, but he barely noticed the odd compulsion over the startling revelation that had just hit him. From one blink to the next it struck him. How he’d only just realised he had no idea, but regardless he was suddenly completely distracted by Connor’s eyes.

‘Your eyes are blue.’ He said in awe, not really intending to say anything at all.

Connor blinked, forehead creasing a little. After a moment he shrugged, running his hand through his hair again. Evan wondered if it was a nervous tick and the hand still clenched in his jacket twitched in sympathy.

‘I wouldn’t know.’

‘I would.’ Evan countered, nodding like sharing his colour wasn’t important. Like it was something you did on a whim. It really didn’t mean anything that Connor’s eyes were blue, but it also meant a lot. It hadn’t changed anything at all, but something had changed. In whatever way that made sense. A paradoxical sort of conclusion settling in Evan’s mind.

‘I can’t ditch school.’ Evan said, still caught on Connor’s eyes. He hadn’t looked away, hadn’t felt the need to and the thought of that alone made him feel reckless.

‘But maybe we could do something. After. After school. I-I’m free.’

There was a flood of other words on his tongue, awkward and stuttering, threatening to drip out and add to the swirling storm outside, but he managed to shut them away behind his teeth. His confidence had dimmed under the stress of his offer and he found himself finally looking away. Even the blue too much in the moment.

Connor shifted, leaning towards Evan before rocking back, and then something small and rectangular landed in Evan’s lap making him jump.

‘Put your number in.’

Connor picked at the paint on his thumbnail, feigning nonchalance. Tentatively, Evan complied, his fingers stumbling over the keys several times before he got it right. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to give it to someone. His call log was just a long list of incoming calls from his mom.

‘Cool.’ Connor said as he took the phone back, thumbing over the buttons quickly himself before sliding it back into his pocket. Evan jolted again as his own phone vibrated against his leg.

‘Text me at the end of the day and I’ll come get you.’

‘You won’t be here?’

‘Nah, not going in today.’

Evan wanted to ask more but he wasn’t sure he needed to. He recognised the look behind Connor’s eyes, the haunted, hollowness there. And Evan thought that maybe, just like he couldn’t bring himself to skip school, Connor couldn’t bring himself to walk through the doors.

That was ok. Evan understood that.

‘A-alright. It’s good you tried.’

He flushed hotly as the words came out. He’d wanted to let Connor know he understood, that he wasn’t judging him, that trying mattered just as much as succeeding. But to his ears it just sounded patronising and stupid. However, when he met that blue, very blue gaze again he found Connor’s eyes wide and his lips slightly parted. In that moment he looked younger than his years. It was easy to forget that Connor was just a kid like him sometimes. The weight of high school stigma could do wonders for dehumanising someone. But Connor was human. He was so, very human. And the world could be so cruel to the people who felt everything too much.

‘Thanks.’ The word choked in Connor’s throat like he had to force it out. His hands were tight on the steering wheel but Evan wasn’t worried. He got it now. He pulled at the strap of his rucksack, loosening it from its place pinned beneath his shoe, before resting a hand on the door handle. There were still a few minutes left before school started. He wondered how effective the hand dryers in the boy’s bathroom would be and whether there would be a line for them.

‘Your face is kind of red.’

Evan stilled at Connor’s hurried admission.

‘I-I wouldn’t know.’ He parroted slowly, turning back to Connor. His heart was beating so fast, excited not nervous. He wasn’t sure what to do with the unexpected information but he was unspeakably grateful he’d been given it.

‘I would.’ Connor responded, blue eyes lighting up as he smiled.

Evan would remember it, the way the moment shook through him like a physical blow. Awkward and uncomfortable, curled into the damp collar of his sweater, Evan would linger on the moment for the rest of the day, wondering what it meant. _Why_ it meant something to him. Why it all felt blue and warm.

And in his mind the spark grew larger, licking at the hollow edges he’d never quite managed to fill. He still needed to be careful, there was still a chance it could burn him or blow out, but it was stronger now. It was something tangible, like the phone in his pocket, or the words on his cast. Outside the world shook and groaned, the windowpanes rattled, and the flower beds spilt over, but for once his mind was quiet. Content that someone could finally see him.


	5. Chapter 5

The lights were still on in the house when Connor passed back by his road, so he kept driving. If the looming spectre of the school had been too much to manage, then the black hole of his mother, lingering behind the front door, was unbearable. He didn’t know when the idea of her had become such a visceral thing for him, an instant reaction deep in his gut, but he couldn’t deny it. It wasn’t hate, despite what he screamed at her on his worse days, but sometimes he wished it was. Hate was so easy, simple, black and white. The misguided love of a woman poisoned by vanity and pride, trying to fix a problem she would never understand, that was a far harder thing to process. He was old enough, smart enough to know that she loved him, but he was also aware enough to know it wasn’t really him she loved.

She loved the little boy he used to be, the one who clung to her like she was his only protection against the world, the one who smiled at her when she wiped his face and offered him juice, asking what he’d learned that day at school. She loved the boy she thought he’d grow up to be. Loud and popular, friends with the football team and dating the daughter of one of her book club friends. The boy destined to follow his father into law because although she didn’t love him, not always, she respected her husband and what he had done for the family and she wanted that for Connor too. She loved him in the way someone loved a ghost, even when the real, breathing contradiction was standing right in front of her.

He didn’t love her, but only because he knew any love he tried to share with her would be poisonous. He didn’t think he had the capacity for anything more than that after all the years that had passed. And he did love her enough to spare them both that pain.

The storm still poured, and he felt the weight of the pouring rain begin to separate him from the rest of the world like a curtain drawn around him. His hands shook in time with the wind, and when it got too much and the rain was too heavy to see through, he pulled into the parking lot of a retail park and lay his forehead back against the steering wheel. For a moment he felt empty and alone, the angry, inexplicable tears collecting at the side of his eyes, but he blinked, breathing in steadily for five beats and exhaling again for ten. When he blinked again nothing fell and the steering wheel felt more solid. The softer, frighteningly honest part of him wished desperately that Evan had agreed to skip with him. He’d known he wouldn’t say yes even as he’d asked, knew anyone whos nerve was balanced so tentatively on a knife’s edge the way Evan’s always seemed to be, wouldn’t be able to push his comfort zone that far. But Connor wanted him to be there, weird and small and completely himself in a way no one else ever was. He was so neurotic and anxious about the world that he was amazingly transparent for anyone willing to take a second look. His words came out of him like misfiring bullets, but they were honest. 

It was a strange thing to admit, even to himself. He never would have guessed that Evan Hansen would be tolerable, couldn’t even explain fully why he’d reached out to him in the first place, but somehow he’d been proven wrong in a myriad of ways. For the first time in a long time he was looking forward to having someone willing to spend time with him, and even the worry that he was going to mess it up wasn’t enough to dampen the relief that it was happening. That something was happening for once.

He pulled out his phone, staring at the screen for a second and wondering if sending Evan another message would be too much. He could say something stupid, ask if he drowned on the way into the building, despite the fact he’d waited in the parking lot to make sure he was fine. But Evan would be in class and Connor doubted he was the kind of guy to text while an adult was talking, even if everyone else in the class were tapping away below their desks. He slid his phone back into his pocket and instead pulled a book out of his bag, a sci-fi novel he’d picked up from the library the last time he’d needed to escape his house. Kicking his feet up onto the dash he flicked to the dogeared page and resigned himself to a few hours of waiting.

* * *

His mom had a Pilates class at 2, coffee with the girls at 3 and then book club and an excuse to get far too wine drunk for a Wednesday until 8. At 1:45 Connor pulled into the driveway and ambled up to the door, the light spattering of rain that remained barely noticeable. He’d finished his book by the time the storm had blown itself out, and wasted another hour wandering the small retail park with a half-eaten burger in hand. He’d briefly considered messaging Evan again when it hit 12 and he realised the school would have broken for lunch, but it was the same way he sometimes toyed with the idea of texting Zoe when he was bored, and ultimately the impulse had passed with minimal persuasion.

Back in his room, he turned on a lamp instead of the overhead light and flopped back onto the bed. The blinds were still drawn and there was half an apple on his desk where he’d left it after storming away from the breakfast table that morning. He couldn’t even remember what his dad had said to set him off, but he could still remember the anger that washed through him like burning charcoal. Somehow his dad always knew the exact places to press to hurt him, the weak spots that flared him up and stripped him raw. He hit at them again and again like it was a game he wanted to win and though Connor didn’t know the rules he was pretty sure he’d lost a long time ago. That the game had almost become a breakfast routine at that point, was startlingly upsetting. It really was a house built on dysfunction; it was a wonder it still stood.

The red of the apple felt odd in his room. He’d never coveted things of his colour the way others did, so his room had always been heavy blacks and greys. It was a stark contrast that he’d expected his mother to clear out as she searched his room for drugs for the thousandth time. Evidently, she hadn’t had time that day, or maybe she was trying to lull him into a false sense of security so he’d leave his weed out for her to find. She’d tried that one before. It never worked because safety and security were things that had been chased from the house long ago. But for whatever reason it was still there, a tiny, fermenting beacon on his desk.

Curious, he scanned his room wondering for the first time if anything in there was blue. The lingering shock of Evan’s admission, the strange instinctual need for him to respond in kind, had to be part of the reason he was feeling so shaken up, but the livewire beneath his skin wasn’t burning the way it usually did. It felt full for once, like anticipation.

He closed his eyes – blue, he now knew they were blue – and let himself wonder what it was that he was anticipating.

He woke to a harsh buzz, the timbre of a trapped wasp against wood. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, hated the fog that lingered in his mind for the first few minutes of consciousness, but he hadn’t been sleeping well and his body must have given in to the moment of distraction. Rolling to the side he squinted at the noise, noticing the message light flashing on his phone. Behind it his alarm clock warned him that it was 3:40pm.

He shot up.

Palming the phone, he unlocked it, skimming through the messages as his chest tightened.

**3:07pm**

_Hi Connor, it’s Evan Hansen. The final bell just went, would you still like to meet up?_

**3:09pm**

_Hi Connor, it’s Evan again. I forgot to say that I need to get my books, but it will probably take you a little while to get here anyway so I can meet you outside by the bike racks?_

**3:20pm**

_Hi Connor, it’s raining again so I’m going to wait inside so I don’t get wet._

**3:27pm**

_Hi Connor, I realise you might be driving so that might be why you’re not answering. Just let me know if you’re here._

**3:37pm**

_Hi Connor, I thinjk I’m just going to go home. I hope you’re ok._

Swearing, Connor dove for his shoes. He wondered how much he should read into the typo in the perfectly punctuated messages. He wondered how much Evan had managed to overthink everything in the 40 minutes that had passed. What conclusions he’d drawn from Connor’s silence.

His first call had already rung out by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, but he just hit redial and pressed the phone back to his ear, listening to the ring pick up again. It took him a moment to remember where he’d tossed the car keys, but as he bent to fish them out from where they’d fallen, the call finally connected.

‘H-hi.’

‘Shit Evan, where are you? I’m literally stepping out the door now. I fell asleep like a fucking idiot, I’ll come get you.’

There was a pause as Evan considered.

‘It’s ok. I’m just walking home. It’s fine.’

‘It’s raining, I’ll come get you.’ Connor repeated, pausing in the doorway to look out over the minimal mist of rain hanging in the air. Evan hesitated again, long enough that Connor could hear his feet falter against the pavement. When he did speak again it was quiet and sad and altogether too much to hear.

‘It’s ok.’

Connor pressed his cheek into the wood of the door frame, fists clenched hard against his phone and keys respectively. The teeth of the car key bit into his fingers but he didn’t loosen his grip. He felt stupid and useless. He felt angry. He felt sorry. He opened his mouth to voice that knowing Evan deserved it, but the apology stuck on his tongue. He thought there must have been a time where the words had come easily, back when he was a real boy full of ignorant bliss. Or was that blissful ignorance? Did it matter? Either way the years had dried the words up with too many unresolved arguments and empty fights. They weren’t words he knew anymore. They choked him, burned at his throat until he swallowed them back down.

‘It’s not ok.’ He said instead, the closest he could get to an apology. ‘It was really shit. Look, just – just come round ok? We can still hang out. Watch something or whatever the fuck people do.’

Connor couldn’t remember the last time he’d had someone over. Maybe his 11th birthday party. He could still remember his dad yelling as Connor stared down at the destroyed remnants of his cake, his perfectly pressed shirt splattered with icing and crumbs. He’d just wanted to go up to his room and play with the new Lego set he’d been given, but his parents had wanted him to stay for photos and cake. The other children who’d happily ignored him while indulging in classic, rowdy party games, had watched his meltdown wide eyed and returned home with stories of chaos and destruction, never to be let near the Murphy’s again. 

‘I-I-‘ Evan sounded quieter like he’d accidentally turned his head away from the phone.

‘Come on,’ Connor cut in, suddenly feeling desperate. He knew it was cruel, but he also knew that if he pushed hard enough, Evan wouldn’t know how to say no and he’d have to come. He’d have to come and let Connor prove that he knew he’d fucked up. Let him find a way to show he was sorry, even if the words weren’t ready to come out. ‘It’ll be fun.’

Evan breathed heavily on the other end of the phone; the tinny sound too loud through the speaker. For an awful moment Connor thought he might still find a way to say no. He could do it, even in the last few days Connor had seen the moments of unexpected confidence that dribbled out of Evan when he was distracted enough not to second guess everything he did. The admonishment he’d given Kleinman in the hall, his stilted sharing of his colour with Connor, his offer to hang out. He could do it if he really wanted to, Connor just prayed he didn’t.

‘Ok.’ He said finally, and relief washed through Connor, fighting through the burning self-loathing that sat on his chest like a rock.

‘Do you want me to come and get you?’

There was another pause, but this one felt less ominous.

‘I-I’m actually on y-your road.’ Evan laughed nervously with shaky breath and stepping outside Connor could just make out the smudge of a person walking down the opposite sidewalk. He followed the driveway down, watching the smudge gain clarity.

‘Yeah, I see you.’ He raised a hand in greeting, smiling despite himself when he saw a shaky, casted hand return the gesture. There was still time to fix it. It wasn’t broken. He hadn’t broken it. There was still time to fix it.

Evan didn’t meet his eyes when he finally made it to Connor’s side, instead he kept his gaze on the cracks in the gravel and his fingers tangled in the hem of his shirt. To stop himself from reaching out, Connor shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and led Evan back up the driveway and into the house.

It took a while for Evan to relax. He was back to being as twitchy and wound up as he was the first day they’d spoken. Still he trailed Connor into the kitchen when he went to get them water and sank stiffly onto the sofa in the den when they made their way through.

5 minutes into the generic cop show they’d settled on by default, Connor was still trying to work out what to say when he was beaten to it by Evan gently saying his name. He muted the television watching for a second longer as the improbably diverse detectives traded stilted banter over a murder scene, before turning to Evan. Evan’s hand had freed itself from the hem of his shirt and he used it to gesture stiffly as he spoke.

‘I know I-I’m not the – I know you, you, well you probably don’t really want to hang out. With me. I-I know so don’t worry. T-thank, thank you for saying yes when I asked, I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea. Not that hanging out with you is bad. It’s not. Hanging out with me is bad. Can be bad. Is probably bad, you know. That’s my point. And I-I’m sorry if I – if it felt like I was pressuring you when I asked. I didn’t mean to – I didn’t want to, to, to _push_.

The last word came out hard and Evan’s chest heaved slightly under his frantic breath. His cheeks were red again and it was odd against the grey of his skin. The well of self-loathing began to swell in Connor’s chest, and he bit his lip trying to come up with the right words.

‘You. You should think less.’ He settled on, wincing as the words came out.

‘Yeah.’ Evan said sadly, chin tucked into his chest.

‘No, I didn’t - I don’t think you get it. You think you’re only here because I pity you and didn’t know how to tell you to fuck off when you asked to hang out, right? But telling people to fuck off is basically the only thing on my resume. I’m fine with that. I didn’t ignore your messages to let you down easy either or whatever you’ve worked yourself into thinking. I just fell asleep with my phone on vibrate because I’m an idiot. That’s it. I’m just an idiot. And I get it, believe me I get it, all those voices in your head telling you that you’re useless and no one likes you. They can fuck a guy up real fast. But _I’m_ telling you that’s not true, and I don’t give enough of a shit about anything to lie about that. So, if you can deal with me being an asshole, because I’m not sure that’s changing anytime soon, maybe we can just chill out, relax and try this hanging out thing again? For real?’

He watched as Evan’s eyes danced around the room, never once landing on his. A buried memory of trying to catch fireflies with Zoe swam up and receded in a singular moment. And then, finally, Evan inhaled deeply, locked his eyes directly over Connor’s left shoulder, and smiled.

‘Ok.’

‘Ok?’

‘Yeah, that sounds. Nice.’

Connor let himself sink back into the couch cushions, suddenly aware of how rigidly he’d been sitting. A slow smile drew across his face.

‘I guess it does.’ He agreed, unmuting the tv.

The hours passed steadily after that. Once the credits rolled on the predictable murderer, they switched to an action film that neither of them had seen. They argued lightly over where they knew the lead actress from, and whether the main characters motivation was believable. With a warm focus Connor slowly watched Evan relax, smiling and laughing less reservedly. Stuttering and apologising half as frequently. Taking tiny jabs at Connor’s taste with a flush of nervous exhilaration that filled Connor with pride.

When the movie finished Connor flicked off the tv and dragged Evan back into their discussion on why the twist had been completely obvious from the first flashback. Evan was still sitting properly on his couch cushion, back to the backrest, but Connor had twisted sideways so he could prop his feet up between them. He made sure to keep his feet outside of Evan’s personal bubble, not wanting to push too far, but he was pleased when the other boy barely flinched when they slipped a little closer during a particularly passionate explanation on why you always check the body in films.

By the time they’d made it round to discussing school, and Connor was trying to wheedle Evan into telling him which of their classmates he didn’t like – _I don’t hate anyone Connor_ – they were almost distracted enough to miss the sound of the front door.

Evan startled, bolting up into perfect posture as the sound of shoes being kicked off came through from the hallway. Noticing this, Connor glanced at the clock on his phone, noting that it was too early for his parents, but Zoe’s band practice would have ended almost an hour earlier. She didn’t bother calling out, probably assuming he was locked up in his room like normal.

A little wrong footed, they listened in silence as Zoe’s socked feet padded through to the kitchen, the seal of the fridge sounding, before they began heading in their direction.

She jumped when she saw them, brow furrowing before she reached up to pull out her headphones with a hand holding a spoon. Connor made sure to school his mask back into unfazed and bored, but he was sure Evan looked guilty enough for both of them. Connor would make fun of him for that except he was feeling a bit like they’d just been caught himself for whatever reason. For her part, Zoe just spooned another mouthful of yoghurt into her mouth as she considered them. After a moment she pointed the spoon at Evan.

‘Is he threatening you to be here?’

Connor scowled, flipping Zoe off as Evan started stuttering behind him.

‘N-n-no no of course not. We’re h-hanging out.’

‘Yeah alright.’ She said, still sceptical. When she didn’t follow up, seemingly still processing the situation, Connor resolved to let the silence hang, hoping that it would get uncomfortable enough for her to leave. But he knew it was probably too late to get back to the conversation they’d been having. Evan was keyed right back up, glancing around Zoe like she was the sun and too bright to stare directly at. His hand was running over the ridges of his cast, and Connor watched for a moment as his index finger crossed back and forth over the second ‘n’ of his name.

‘W-would you like to j-j-join us?’

Connor sighed as the silence broke Evan first, and Zoe swallowed another mouthful of yoghurt with a squint.

‘What? Staring at each other in silence? I’ll pass, thanks.’

Evan went to correct her, his cheeks flaring up again, but Connor took pity and cut him off.

‘Great, then you can leave. Say goodbye to Zoe, Evan. She’s going to go upstairs now and mind her own business.’

She returned his sardonic smile with one of her own, eyes flicking to Evan as he obediently mumbled out a confused goodbye to her. She faltered when Connor snorted, pulling her attention back round.

‘This is so weird.’ She said, though less unkindly than she had before. After another moment of hesitation, she shrugged ‘Whatever, have fun guys. Evan, if he freaks out and you need help just shout.’

With that she turned and wandered back into the hallway. Connor felt himself flush, a familiar mixture of shame and anger igniting, but he bit his tongue not wanting to prove her right. They listened to her feet on the steps and the creak of overhead floorboards before her door slammed shut and the quiet fell again.

‘Shit, I forgot she’d be back.’

‘Oh, yeah.’ Evan pulled out his phone, blinking down at the screen for a second. When he looked back up his eyes were wide and vulnerable and Connor wondered how the hell he’d survived so long in the world looking that innocent and lost.

‘I should probably go. My m-mom has a shorter shift tonight and she’ll probably wonder where I am.’

Connor didn’t even bother arguing, it wasn’t worth it to trap Evan somewhere that he suddenly wasn’t comfortable. Instead he stood up, brushing imaginary dust from his jeans and gestured to the door.

‘Yeah no problem. I’ll give you a ride. I kind of owe you one.’

Surprisingly, Evan just nodded, smiling at the ground as he stood up as well.

Connor called up to Zoe as they put their shoes on, and she called something unintelligible back which he took to be positive. He was pretty sure it was the longest they’d gone in a long time without yelling at each other and he wasn’t in the mood to push it.

The car ride was short, with Evan quietly providing directions until they pulled up outside a small, semi-detached house with fading flowerpots guarding the door.

‘Thank you for the, um, for the ride.’

‘Yeah, no problem.’

Evan reached for the door handle, fingers hesitating when Connor cleared his throat.

‘Look, Hansen. This is probably really stupid but I just wanted to say that –‘ he trailed off trying to work the words into something less embarrassing. ‘Just. I had a good time. Today. And I know that if you’re anything like me you’re going to spend a lot of time overthinking things until they’re pretty screwed up. So just. Don’t. Because this was good. Wasn't it?’

Evan twisted back towards him, mouth slightly open. One of his slightly wonky bottom teeth was just visible.

‘Yeah, it was. It was really good.’

He sounded in awe of the fact, and Connor felt a lot like he could relate. The feeling of walking on untrod ground was thrilling and terrifying and altogether more that Connor had felt in a while. The hollow, damp place inside of him suddenly felt a lot less deep.

‘Thank you, Connor.’ Evan said again, but this time it felt like a lot more. This time it wasn't politeness and manners. This time he met Connor’s eyes with a smile and red cheeks.

‘No problem. What are friends for.’ Connor quipped with a nonchalance he wasn't feeling and marvelling at the word as it formed. It was disconcerting how pleased it made him - a single, stupid word - but he honestly didn’t care. And from the widening, stuttering smile on Evan’s face, it didn't seem like he cared either.


	6. Chapter 6

Evan woke to a message waiting on his phone.

He watched the little light flash white and black for a moment before sliding his fingers along the hairline crack in his screen, watching Connor’s words light up on the screen.

**7:03am**

_Be ready @8:30, I’ll honk when I’m outside._

Checking the clock he still had over an hour so he allowed himself a few more minutes to sit and stare at the message. They hadn’t discussed it the night before, but Evan supposed they weren’t really discussing it now either. Connor had a habit of just saying things and they stuck. For better or for worse, it was a skill Evan had never mastered and one he found himself envying even as he admired it. Evan spoke in such broken prose that it was a wonder he ever said anything worth listening to.

By 8:30 he’d gone through his morning routine easily, mind absent. His mom was long gone, his dishes were drying on the rack, and the laces of his shoes has been done and redone 3 times until the bows were passably symmetrical. He sat on the staircase watching the clock by the door tick past 8:30. Two minutes became three and Evan waited for the panic to set in.

It never came.

Three minutes became five and Evan stayed where he was, waiting. He could hear the voices in his head start to whisper, their spiteful, hurtful voices jabbing at him, but for once they weren’t actually hitting him. For once he could ignore them, fight them, oppose them. For once he knew, with a grounding kind of certainty, that someone was coming for him. Connor had said he would come, so he would come.

One of his nails caught on the strap of his bag, and he pulled back too fast hissing when the nail split. He pulled it away, frowning at the jagged edge he’d made.

Outside a horn honked; two short blasts followed by an obnoxiously long one. Evan hoped the neighbours weren’t hoping for a lie in. He smiled behind his sigh as he climbed to his feet, careful of his cast. It would be coming off soon and though he was counting the days he knew he’d miss it in a strange way. Or maybe it wasn’t the cast he’d miss but the letters across it. The first bridge between their islands.

He locked the door behind him, turning to see Connor watching him from the driver’s seat, and thought that maybe that bridge didn’t really matter anymore. Maybe they had bridges beyond sharpie and plaster now.

‘Good morning.’ He said as he folded himself into the passenger seat.

‘Hey, I know I’m late. Had to shake my dad this morning and it took a little longer than usual.’

‘W-what did he want?’

Connor pulled out into the road, completing a shaky three-point turn, before setting off again.

‘He wants me to look into internships over the Christmas break. Something about learning responsibility and learning how to market myself.’ He rolled his eyes in Evan’s direction and when he spoke again his voice was low and mocking.

‘It’s a tough world out there Connor, and we’re not always going to be able to support you. You’ve been sheltered son, allowed to get away with too much. Everything is your fault and you’re a disappointment to the family. Fuck you, I wish I didn’t have a son.’

Evan reeled back, eyes widening as he stared at the side of Connor’s face. Connor didn’t notice, too busy focusing on pulling out into incoming traffic.

‘H-h-he didn’t really say that did he?’

Finally noticing Evan’s distress, Connor glanced over with a smirk.

‘Nah, not in so many words. But you read between the lines and that’s practically verbatim.’

‘I’m sure he didn’t mean that Connor,’ Evan’s mind flashed back to the library, to Connor’s insistence that it was too late to change the way people saw him. To the sadness in his voice when he said it like he’d resigned himself to it. He thought about Jared and his careless accusation in the hallway, loud and absent enough that Connor had overheard it, and he wondered not for the first time, how often it happened. Whether it happened at home too.

He felt angry again, like he had with Jared. That shaky, righteous kind of anger that made him feel stronger than he actually was; wilder and more reckless than he’d ever been. It was a rush of emotion that scared him and made him feel like he had to do something. Or at least try.

‘And even if he did,’ Evan continued, the words clumsy as they poured out, ‘he’s wrong and s-stupid, and you don’t need to listen to-to-to someone like that.’

Connor choked on a stunned laugh, hand coming up to run through his hair, and when he looked back over to Evan he looked so surprisingly awed that Evan couldn’t even start his cycle of second guessing what he’d said.

‘Yeah? You offering to take on Larry Murphy for me Hansen?’

Evan grinned at his own lap, fiddling with his broken nail.

‘I could probably get t-two words out before I fainted on him.’

‘You’ve got to pick good ones then.’

They were close to the school now, the sidewalks littered with kids in backpacks. Carefully Evan brushed his fingers against the polyester of the seat next to his thigh and wondered how he’d gotten there. How he had someone to ride to school with now, someone to talk to who actually wanted to talk back. He had a _friend_. An honest to god _friend_. Connor Murphy was his friend. Hell, Connor Murphy was his best friend.

And didn’t that thought make him feel dangerous.

They were pulling into the school parking lot when he worked out what he wanted to say. Worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, he cleared his throat nervously.

‘H-how about: f-fuck you?’

He felt terrified and anxious and exhilarated. It was amazing. The car jolted slightly as they pulled into a parking space, and as Connor automatically put the handbrake on, he turned, wide, astonished eyes on Evan. He’d never seen Connor smile so widely.

‘Holy shit,’ he whispered, chuckling through the words. ‘Have I corrupted you already?’

He sounded thrilled at the prospect, so Evan just stared at a spot on his right cheek and smiled back. He could feel the familiar flush in his own cheeks, but for once it wasn’t embarrassment, it was something warmer and kinder and better.

‘Seriously though, I’d pay to hear you say that to my dad. He’d have no idea what to do. His head might actually explode.’

‘I might actually die though.’ Evan countered, suddenly worried that Connor might be getting a little too interested in the idea.

‘I guess we’ll have to skip it then,’ Connor sighed dramatically as he reached round to grab his stuff from the backseat, ‘don’t want you dying on me now, do I?’

And Evan thought it was nice to hear that out loud for once.

* * *

As soon as they were out of the car, Connor’s smile dropped. When they met at the back of the car, he’d hunched into himself completely, and his eyes fixed on the building like it was taunting him. Evan fully expected Connor to turn back and tap out as they trudged across the gravel in silence, but to Evan’s surprise Connor followed him into the school.

Connor lingered half a step behind him, unobtrusive but constant. His eyes darted around like they were waiting for someone to take a swing at him, and Evan guessed that maybe he was. If Evan had a hard time getting noticed, Connor had a hard time getting ignored. He was an easy target for anyone a little too bored, and a little too wound up. And their high school wasn’t short of either. Evan had heard the way people egged each other on to try and piss Connor off. The way they played it like some kind of sport.

‘S-so what’s your first class?’

Connor looked up; his face shadowed by the hood he’d pulled up at some point. It was hard to see his eyes through the mask of fabric and hair, and Evan instantly found himself missing the blue. He didn’t want Connor to have to hide from him.

‘English,’ Connor shrugged, ‘you?’

‘History,’

They trailed off again, and Evan found himself frustrated that it was suddenly too hard again. They were both on edge, the spectre of the school taking hold like some unholy, unnatural force. He felt itchy and heavy and wound too tight. He felt like everyone was watching them and judging them and laughing at them. It had been easy at Connor’s house watching bad movies, easy in the car just joking around. School wasn’t going to be easy for either of them, when both had far too much to fear from it.

‘W-we should probably get to home room.’ Evan said as he slipped his history textbook into his bag and gently closed his locker door. When he turned around Connor was still there, head down, but his fists were clamped tight. There were three guys a couple of lockers down, staring right at Connor. One of them said something and the others laughed, their gaze never breaking, and though Evan didn’t catch what they said, he thought Connor might have as his whole body tensed and his fists tightened even further.

It had to hurt, Evan thought, clenching your fists like that. He wanted to reach out and try and loosen them, make sure Connor’s nails weren’t biting into his skin, but he wasn’t sure Connor would welcome the touch in such a public place, and he wasn’t sure how comforting his clammy hands would be. Instead he shifted a little, attempting to turn in a way that the guys weren’t as visible, and tried to smile encouragingly.

‘L-let’s go, we’ll be late.’

He was relieved when Connor nodded, shoulders untensing a little though not completely. He still didn’t say anything, apparently content to stay mute on school grounds, but he tilted his head down the hall and when Evan set off that way, he stepped in beside him, combat boots squeaking on the linoleum floor.

They didn’t have the same home room, but they were on the same corridor. When Evan reached his classroom first, Connor cleared his throat to get Evan’s attention.

‘Lunch?’

‘Yeah, of course.’

There was a ghost of a smile somewhere below the hood.

‘I’ll meet you in the French classroom, save us from having to eat with all the freaks.’

He gestured at two random girls walking down the hallway bent over a phone, giggling. They almost ran straight into a teacher coming the other way, but the man managed to veer out of the way just in time, scowling after them as the carried on oblivious.

‘I th-thought we were the freaks?’

Connor hummed.

‘Yeah, guess it depends where you’re looking from doesn’t it?’

The bell rang, loud and too long, and Evan glanced through the window in the door. Most of his class seemed to be in there already, lounging on the desks, chatting. He startled when Connor’s shoulder brushed his, and he turned back to find Connor already walking away down the hall.

* * *

When Evan made it to one of the seats at the back of the classroom, he was immediately ambushed by Jared sliding into the seat next to him.

‘We’re still on for tonight right? My mom’s so thrilled to see you she’s decided to make tacos. I’ve no idea why she’s so into you man, but for tacos, I don’t even care.’

Honestly, Evan had completely forgotten Jared’s invitation. He wasn’t even sure he’d ever accepted it, but he didn’t have any actual plans, and he still felt a little bad for raising his voice at him so he nodded anyway, making a mental note to tell Connor he didn’t need a ride home.

‘Cool. There’s this new game I got and to 100% it you need to do some of the levels co-op, so I’m drafting you onto the game squad tonight.’

When Evan went to open his mouth, Jared cut him off with a wave of his hand.

‘Don’t worry dude, you don’t have to be good, you just have to be there.’

Evan wasn’t sure what he wanted to say back to that, whether it was supposed to be an insult or not, and he never found out because the next moment their teacher arrived, settling the class down and pulling out the register.

After that the day went fairly smoothly.

When Evan made it to the French room at lunch, realising suddenly that they might be doing something against the rules, Connor was already there looking more relaxed than he had that morning, feet on the desks again and hood down. When Evan asked about his morning he grumbled for a while and how shitty the school was and how unbearable their classmates were, but he shared his carrot sticks with Evan while he talked so Evan was happy to humour him and just nod along quietly. He noted with interest that while Connor always started off his complaining with dark eyes and a crease between his eyebrows, if Evan let him speak long enough the frustration tended to melt away and more often than not he ended up laughing at something by the end of the story. He just wanted to vent, and Evan was more than happy to be vented at if it helped Connor relax.

Near the end of the hour they’d both finished their meals and had moved so that they were facing each other across one of the desks. It wasn’t until Connor mentioned something about Zoe trying to convince him to lend her his car that Evan suddenly remembered the conversation with Jared that morning.

‘Oh,’ he started, drawing a confused look from Connor. ‘I don’t need a r-ride tonight by-by the way’

‘Yeah? Hot date Hansen?’ Connor smirked at him, eyebrows twitching as he leered.

‘N-no – no what? No. Of course n-not. It – I – I said I’d go to J-Jared’s that’s all.’

Connor slumped back into his chair, scowling.

‘That asshole? Just ditch him, he’s not worth your time.’

Evan shook his head.

‘No, I c-can’t. I said I’d go. I have to.’

‘Whatever. I thought you said he was a dick.’

‘I never said that,’ Evan protested, his voice sounding unnaturally high to his own ears. Jared had only come up briefly when they were discussing their classmates, but he was sure he would have remembered saying that.

‘You said he always makes fun of you.’

‘He – he doesn’t mean it like that.’ He countered, feeling the need to defend Jared for some reason. Sure he didn’t always make Evan feel the best about himself, but he was pretty sure Jared just didn’t know how much some of the stuff he said affected Evan. And up until Connor he was the closest thing to a friend he’d had. That had to count for something.

‘It’s just a few hours anyway. His m-mom made him invite me.’

Connor scoffed. ‘Loser.’

Evan swallowed thickly and looked away, staring at a poster on the wall. Connor sighed as he noticed, slumping forward to rest his elbows on the desk.

‘He’s the loser, not you Evan.’ He corrected, picking at the flaking nail varnish on his thumb. ‘Fine, fine, you go and hang out with douchebag Kleinman. Don’t let him infect you with his assholery though.’

Stealing himself, Evan knocked his sneaker into Connor’s, biting his lip when he looked up.

‘You haven’t managed yet, so I think I’ll be fine.’

Connor’s indignant noise was enough to get Evan through the rest of the day with a smile.


	7. Chapter 7

Jared was already in his car by the time Evan made it out into the parking lot.

As he neared the car, noting with a frown a new dent in the bumper, he could hear the bass leaking through the metal, and could see Jared’s body jerking in the driver’s seat as he bounced along to the radio. Evan slowed his pace, feeling the ghost of a headache blossoming behind his eyes. He knew from experience that asking Jared to turn down the radio was like asking a cat not to knock a glass off the table.

Jared was singing off tune when Evan slipped into the passenger seat. He shot sloppy finger guns in Evan’s direction in place of a greeting, before throwing the car in reverse and honking at some guy from school who was crossing behind them. The guy flipped them off and Jared laughed, returning the gesture. For the life of him, Evan couldn’t work out if the interaction had been friendly or not. But that wasn’t a new feeling with Jared.

He’d meant what he’d said to Connor at lunch. He honestly didn’t think Jared meant to be as cruel as he was. He could still remember a time before. Before Evan’s awkwardness had warranted diagnosis. Before Jared had learnt what social status was. A time when the two of them had actually had a friendship instead of the tiring impersonation of one they had now. It was Jared who had shown him how to make shadow puppets on his bedroom walls the night after his dad left. It was Jared who had covered for him when he’d tripped and broken Mrs Kleinman’s vase and spent 20 minutes hyperventilating in the pantry. It was Jared who had swapped his drink for Evan’s every day of 4th grade before Evan had gotten the courage to tell his mom he didn’t like apple juice.

But somewhere along the line of growing up Jared had backed himself into a cynical, sceptical corner of the world, and he’d spent the subsequent years taking pot-shots from it, suddenly certain that any kindness was weakness, and that weakness was an invitation for torment. Evan had never been much more than weak, so Jared had quickly drawn up the target and hung it across his shoulders. Maybe he’d convinced himself he was only firing blanks, unaware some live ammo had made its way into the gun.

He owed so much to Jared, but sometimes it felt like he was paying it back to the façade Jared had grown into and not to the kid with two missing front teeth and a stolen sleeve of cookies. He knew the kid was still in there somewhere, saw him in fleeting moments in between barbed quips and crude jokes, he just wished he’d stop hiding quite so much. He wished they could drop the ‘family’ from ‘family friend’ again and just be what they were. Life was hard enough.

He shook himself from his thoughts when they turned into the driveway of Jared’s apartment complex, and Jared killed the ignition, the overbearing drum and bass dying with it. For a moment Jared looked over at him, and Evan was sure he was going to say something, but he just shrugged and sloped out of the car instead, barely waiting to make sure Evan was with him before following a concrete path round to the side of the building.

Mrs Kleinman greeted him with the same exuberance she always did, smiling and pulling him in for a hug he struggled not to flinch from. He never wanted to make her feel bad for sharing affection he’d never felt worthy of. But whether she didn’t notice, or was kind enough not to mention it, she just patted his cheek with a soft hand, and asked him whether he was hungry.

‘Y-yeah, I-I’m really – really hungry. It smells great Mrs Kleinman’

Jared returned from wherever he’d disappeared to, scowling half-heartedly when his mom pressed a kiss to his cheek.

‘That’s always nice to hear Evan, thank you. Dinner won’t be ready until 6:30, but I’ve got a snack ready in the kitchen if you’re interested?’

Evan stumbled as Jared practically flew past him, heading for the kitchen. Evan watched him go, before noticing he was also being ushered through the hallway. There was something about Jared’s house that made him feel vaguely nauseous. He wasn’t even sure that was the right word. It wasn’t a physical nausea, it wasn’t even bad necessarily, it just always left him feeling unbalanced for some reason. Maybe it was the fact that it hadn’t changed in all the years he’d known Jared. The same photographs hung down the hallway, the kitchen table always rocked slightly too the left, and the lumpy beanbag in Jared’s room always had a small hole near the base that the beans wriggled out of when Evan shifted too much. Maybe it was the juxtaposition of a constant house and an inconstant world, that tripped Evan up every time he was invited back. Maybe it was watching Jared close off, feeling himself darken in ways he’d never really told anyone, but seeing the evidence that nothing else had changed because no one else had really noticed.

Maybe it was just his crippling anxiety.

Whatever it was, he was still trying to settle by the time he’d carried his juice and carrot slices up to Jared’s room and sunk into the old, ratty beanbag at the end of the bed. Again, Jared seemed to pause, like he was chewing on words he was considering spitting out, but nothing followed and Evan averted his eyes, fingering the loose beans already collecting beneath the bean bag.

Sighing, Jared collapsed onto the end of his bed, beginning to unwind two controllers from where they’d been stashed. Evan wondered if perhaps he was supposed to have said something, but he had no idea what words Jared was waiting for. He had words – too many of them, not nearly enough of them – but none of them seemed like they would help the situation. Instead he fumbled with a controller when it was tossed his way, and tried to pay attention to the vague, passive aggressive instructions Jared deemed important as he clicked through loading screens.

It was some sort of shooting game, and it was far too gory for Evan’s liking. By the third time his character had been brutally beheaded by a hulking lizard-man, he was sure he’d be hearing the reptilian victory roar in his sleep. That or Jared’s muttered insults about his skills and how useless he was. But to be fair Evan had realised pretty quickly that his best bet was mashing the buttons and directing his character as far away from the fighting as he could, so the disparaging remarks were probably well deserved.

It took an hour, and Evan was wound up tighter than he could remember being in a while, but finally the victory screen played, and Jared whooped in place, punching the air like a cartoon character.

‘Yeah dude, look at that. Who’s the fucking man? That would be me. _I’m_ the fucking man.’

‘W-well done’

Jared raised an eyebrow in his direction as if just remembering he was there, then tilted his controller towards the one in Evan’s hands.

‘Well, you were there too, so I suppose that earns you partial credit in my victory.’ He paused, humming thoughtfully to himself. ‘How about 10%? You can have 10% of the credit for helping to bring down the forces of evil hellbent on ravaging the planet and destroying human civilisation.’

Honestly, Evan thought that was incredibly generous seeing as the onscreen mission report listed his kills at 3 and his deaths at 27. Jared’s smirk was less sharp than normal, and his eyes seemed brighter like he was genuinely excited to be sharing the moment, so Evan decided he’d take his own personal victory where he could.

‘Yeah, I guess that seems fair.’

Jared watched him for a moment longer before flopping back on the bed, speaking to the ceiling.

‘You know me, I’m quite the martyr.’ There was a beat, suddenly heavier than expected, and then, ‘So, are you still best friends with psycho Murphy?’

There was a laugh in Jared’s voice, like he found the concept funny. Frowning at Jared’s knees, the only part of the other boy he could see, Evan considered his answer. He wondered if this is what Jared had been wanting to talk about. The pause in the car, the moment before the lizard apocalypse. The question felt loaded and intense in the dim bedroom despite Jared’s attempt at levity. Evan didn’t really think his friendship with Connor was _funny_.

‘Y-yeah, Connor and me – I, um, we’ve been spending time together.’

Pushing himself onto his elbows, Jared peered down at him, something like disbelief colouring his features. Evan felt small and weak, hunched over in the broken beanbag. Quite literally the lower ground in a battle he was only just starting to realise he might have wandered into. He didn’t like it. It suddenly felt like a trap. The emotional nausea swam in his stomach, waves lapping threateningly. Storm warning.

‘What the fuck Evan? Are you serious?’ Jared sounded annoyed, but he was still smirking as he spoke like he was waiting for a punchline, but he wasn’t sure who was going to deliver it. ‘I knew you were crazy, but this is a whole new level of insane. Connor Murphy is a fucking lunatic, man. Do you guys hang out after school now? Paint each other’s nails and buy ripped jeans together? Has he shown you his plans to shoot up the school yet? I bet he’s got them written down in some emo journal somewhere. I bet it’s written in his own blood like a fucked-up manifesto – ‘

‘God, Jared.’ Evan’s voice was thread-y even to his own ears, but it was enough to knock Jared off course.

‘What?’

‘That’s a-awful, you can’t say that.’

‘If it walks like a school shooter and talks like a school shooter then it’s probably a school shooter.’ He grinned back at Evan like he was trying to share a joke with him, but Evan just felt sick and tired.

‘He’s not a school sh-shooter Jared. He – he’s my f-friend and he’s nice, and-and-and you can’t say things like that because you don’t know what you – what you’re talking about. You don’t know him.’

Jared pushed himself back up to fully seated, looking put out and pissed off. It was like he’d expected Evan to agree with him and hadn’t considered the fact he might push back instead. That he might defend Connor again. Jared wasn’t smirking anymore, but the scowl felt just as sharp.

‘Oh, you’re _friends_ now are you? I wasn’t aware Stockholm Syndrome kicked in so quickly. You must have been really desperate for friends if he’s already got you wrapped around his psycho finger.’ He snapped his fingers in Evan’s direction, tilting his head consideringly, a mean glint in his eye. It was like a switch had been flicked, and suddenly Jared was back in his corner, defending against a threat only he could see.

‘Are you sure you’re just friends though? Maybe he offered you something else, huh Evan. Is that it? You’re all riled up, hackles raised. Are you his bitch Evan? Connor Murphy’s little bitch? Is that what you –‘

‘Boys. Dinner.’

The call came from downstairs, interrupting Jared as he was ramping up. Evan didn’t wait to see if he’d regroup, just fumbled his way out of the maw of the beanbag and stumbled towards the door. His heart was pounding, his cheeks were burning, and there was a vile confusion laced across it all, wondering what was happening. Where on earth Jared’s hostility was coming from so sudden and violent. This wasn’t Jared shooting blanks from his foxhole anymore, oblivious to the casualties of misjudged shots. This was Jared staring down the scope of a rifle, trying to perfect a headshot. But Evan had no idea why. What he’d done. Why he had such a problem with Connor.

He mumbled something about Jared washing his hands as he settled into his seat at the table. The tacos were steaming lightly on their plate. Evan’s placemat was blue and his glass was striped and his eyes stung like he wanted to cry. He didn’t though, he just stuttered a greeting to Jared’s dad when he thudded into the room and avoided Jared’s eye when he followed closely after.

Mr Kleinman asked about his day and Mrs Kleinman asked about his mom. Jared stayed quiet through it all, rolling beans around his plate. Even as he tried to answer the questions, Evan could feel Jared simmering in his seat. They’d made it to the eye of the storm it seemed, a brief respite to catch their breaths, but Evan still had to weather whatever was brewing across the table. He gulped at his water when Jared’s mom asked him why he looked so pale.

He declined seconds before realising it would have bought him more time. Thankfully Mrs Kleinman disappeared around the corner, only to emerge with a lemon pie. Fittingly bitter Evan thought.

By dessert even Jared’s parents had clued into the tension round the table, but were valiantly trying to avoid it, keeping the small talk flowing between them with minimal input from the boys.

‘Oh Evan, I know I keep saying it but it really is nice to see you again. It’s been such a long time. I have so many memories of the two of you running around together as children, it’s always a shock to see what handsome young men you’ve become.’

Evan smiled awkwardly at Mrs Kleinman, unsure what to do with the compliment.

‘Any lucky ladies in your life then Evan?’

Mr Kleinman had lemon pie stuck in his moustache and winked when Evan made startled eye contact with him. His mind flashed to Zoe, safe and sound on the pedestal he’d built her. She seemed a little dusty up there, not forgotten exactly but maybe a bit neglected. It was a strange thought to have considering he’d actually spoken to her – the real her - the day before, but part of him had always known that the girl on the pedestal wasn’t really the girl in the hallways. Maybe he was realising that more keenly now. But before he could consider articulating the nothing he’d made into something all those years ago, Jared snorted meanly into his own pie.

‘Yeah right, like Evan could ever get a girl.’

His mother tutted, giving him a stern glare. Jared just shrugged in response, biting into the crust of his pie.

‘N-no. Um, no girls Mr Kleinman.’

‘That’s a shame,’ Mrs Kleinman cut in, ‘but you boys are still so young, there’s plenty of time to think about all of that later. Jared’s so fixated on his video games, it’s a wonder he ever has time to think about anything else.’

She laughed, so Evan did too, hoping it seemed polite.

‘What about friends Evan? We barely see you anymore, where have you been hiding all summer?’

‘W-well,’ Evan swallowed, saliva thick in his mouth,’ I- uh- I did an in-internship this summer at Ellison State Park.’

‘Oh yes,’ Mrs Kleinman cut back in,’ Heidi did mention that last time we got coffee. That must have been such fun being out there with nature.’

Evan nodded, before realising she was expecting him to continue.

‘Yea-yeah it was, um, it was great. I like – I like trees. And, uh nature and stuff.’

‘That’s wonderful. And did you make any friends on the internship?’

‘Not really,’ He’d only really been in contact with Herb, the head ranger who’d been in charge of giving him his daily tasks. And though they’d been perfectly pleasant to each other, he wasn’t sure the 55-year-old man would be what he considered a friend. ‘But, I-I made a new friend at school. Which, uh, which is nice.’

He smiled at his plate proudly at the thought and hoped Connor wouldn’t be mad that he’d brought up their friendship to the Kleinmans. He didn’t think it was a secret or anything, and Jared already knew so it was probably ok.

‘That’s always fun. Maybe you could all hang out together some time? Have a sleepover like you boys used to do?’

‘That’s a hard pass from me.’ Jared sneered, stabbing at a wandering crumb.

‘Jared,’ his mother scolded, thwapping him with her napkin, ‘be nice.’

But Jared was seemingly done with nice, and even the threat of his parents being in the room wasn’t enough to tamp down the raging winds anymore. Evan could feel his heartbeat in his throat again. It tasted like lemon and panic.

‘Like I’d want to spend time with psycho Murphy. Just because Evan hit rock bottom and realised he was too much of a loser for anyone sane to want to be his friend, doesn’t mean I want to be dragged down too.’

Jared’s parents had been shocked silent, too alarmed to say anything, and Jared took the opportunity to carry on. His eyes bored into Evan, pinning him in place. He’d been waiting to say this, he was relishing every word.

‘I bet he’s thrilled to have you around. Some pathetic little bitch to do whatever he wants and follow him wherever he goes. Skipping lunch to cut in the bathrooms or whatever it is you do together. I always knew you were a loser, but this just proves me right doesn’t it? I heard people talking about it today at school. People think you’re a freak you know. The freak and the psycho, you’re just perfect for each other. To be honest I’m happy you’re _friends_ now. Maybe now I won’t have you trailing after me like a useless little puppy all the time anymore. You can be his problem now. Thank fuck for that.’

Jared’s dad smacked a hand on the table to try and cut Jared off, but it didn’t work. The storm had caught coastal winds and was tearing down everything in its path. Disorientated and overwhelmed, Evan just let it blow over him, hoping he made it out the other side.

‘Does he know though? Does he know that you’re just using him to get to his sister? I bet he’d flip out if he found out. Oh shit, is that what really happened to your arm? Did he get angry and break it? I bet he did, I bet he couldn’t help himself because he’s a fucking psycho. Is that the price of friendship Evan? Are you that desperate?’

‘That’s _enough._ I don’t know what has gotten into to you, but you will stop right this instance.’

Evan didn’t hear anything that followed that. He was halfway down the hall before he realised his legs were listening to him again. He was glad he’d left his shoes by the front door when he’d arrived, spending as little time as possible slipping them on and shouldering his backpack. Jared’s words rang in his head. They were deafeningly loud, but in a terrifying moment of clarity, he thought he could just about see the end of the thread that ran through the tirade. The central theme, so laughably ridiculous a conclusion that it made Evan want to cry when he realised it.

Jared was jealous. Or some twisted version of jealousy at least. The way he spat the word _friend_. The way he gloated over Evan finally having someone else to follow around. Because when it came down to it, that’s how he saw Evan, the pathetic dog, constantly nipping at his heels and hiding from the thunder and fireworks of the world. To Jared, Evan was a constant, whether wanted or not, that he now felt he was losing because Evan had used the word _friend_ and meant somebody other than him for once. It was fine when Jared disvalued their friendship, used words to cheapen the only connection Evan really had, because Jared was in charge and Evan was lucky to get whatever he was given. But when Evan turned around and confirmed that it wasn’t his only lifeline anymore, that he might be more than just Jared’s fallback friend, Jared had taken it like a personal attack and responded in kind. He was hurt, so he hurt in return.

Jared liked to pretend the world was broken around him. That Evan was broken, and Connor was broken, but he was still sane and whole despite them. Evan felt sliced to pieces, insulted and raw and he wondered whether Jared would ever realise that it was his own broken edges that had left the marks.

Evan sucked in a breath as soon as the door closed behind him, suddenly thankful for the chill in the air, brushing against his cheeks. It was grounding against the waves heaving inside of him, throwing him off centre and pulling at the fragile parts of him. He wanted to scream. He wanted to curl up and cry. He wanted to claw at the walls and tear the world up so it was as broken as he felt in that moment.

Instead he sat himself on the low wall in front of the apartment complex and focused on breathing steadily.

Countless moments passed before he heard movement behind him. When he tilted his head, the silhouette of Jared stared back at him from the doorway. He made no move to step outside and Evan couldn’t bring himself to rise to face him. His breathing was steadier, but his legs still felt weak.

‘Your boyfriend coming to get you?’

The heat was gone from the words and Evan wondered what Jared’s parents had said to him in the time Evan had spent hyperventilating in their courtyard. But the taunt was still there, still enough to hint at insincerity and disingenuousness of the question. The walls Jared built over and over and over protecting him from anything real. He couldn’t help himself, Evan realised.

Sighing Evan stood. It wasn’t that far to walk, only 30 minutes or so, and his mom wouldn’t be home for another hour at least. Still, he didn’t move, staring down the darkening street, watching the flickering bulb of a broken streetlamp cast stuttering shadows across the ground. Broken. Weren’t they all?

‘You know what Jared.’ He said, calmer than he’d felt all evening. ‘If I called Connor, I think he’d come and get me. I don’t think he’d even ask why.’

Finally, he turned around, staring straight at where he imagined Jared’s eyes would be. It was easier not being able to see them. It was easier to stare down a shadow, he’d been doing it all his life.

‘If I called you, I don’t think you’d even pick up.’

He didn’t wait to see if Jared responded. He didn’t really care. He simply collected his bag from the heap at his feet and began the walk home.


	8. Chapter 8

Evan didn’t sleep that night, not really.

The whole evening had threaded a livewire beneath his skin, and his nerves felt bruised and raw from the repeated memory shocks. He played the argument on repeat throughout the early hours of the morning, wondering what he could have done to avoid it. What he could have done differently. Whether it could even be called an argument when he’d just sat and taken most of it over pie crumbs and parental paralysis.

By the time he’d made it through his morning routine, kissed his mom goodbye with a distracted ease, and followed the sound of honking out to Connor’s car, his mind had tangled itself up so badly that he really felt he couldn’t be blamed for his abrupt opener.

‘I once waited for an hour outside of Zoe’s band practice to talk to her and maybe shake her hand because I wanted to know if she was my soulmate.’

Evan was sure there were probably a thousand more delicate ways to broach the topic, ways that wouldn’t leave him panting and wide eyed in the passenger seat of his friend’s car, but in that moment he’d be hard pressed to name a single one. All he’d known was he had something he needed to say, something burning a hole through his tongue, so he’d spat it out as soon as he had the chance. It didn’t have to be pretty, it just had to be out. Through all the tossing and turning, the stare downs with Jared’s furious, acidic ghost, a certain set of words had just kept circling back around in Evan’s head.

_Does he know that you’re just using him to get to his sister?_

His infatuation had never come up in their short friendship. It wasn’t the kind of thing Evan wanted to offer freely and Connor would have no reason to consider it a topic of conversation to begin with. But if Jared brought it up, if he was still mad enough to launch his next attack on school grounds, then it would probably look a lot like Evan was trying to hide it. And he didn’t know what Connor would do with that information. He wasn’t trying to hide it, not really. He wasn’t really sure there was anything too hide at this point other than a glaring example of his abject loneliness and misplaced idolatry. But he didn’t doubt that Jared could make it look like whatever he wanted it to if he was given the chance, and considering the hours Evan had spent nervously praising the many wonders of Zoe Murphy over a fuzzy skype connection, he probably had enough outdated ammo to destroy any and all of Evan’s burgeoning bridges.

But Evan had figured at some point in the night that if he pulled the pin himself instead, then he could potentially soften the blow and ensure he was on the scene for the damage control, not looking over his shoulder at every point, waiting for the fall out. It had seemed like a solid plan at 4am under soft moonlight and heavy blankets. The light of day had done a lot to weaken his resolve and remind him that he often made terrible, cataclysmic decisions when he panicked. Of course he realised all of this far too late as he stared, unblinking at the crease between Connor’s furrowed eyebrows.

‘The fuck?’

‘Uh, s-sorry – I – It’s. I had a – an. I needed to –‘

‘To tell me you think my sister is your soulmate? And you’re a fucking stalker?’

Evan flushed, mouth moving soundlessly for a moment. His casted hand was waving along to his invisible words, while his other did its best to rip through the hem of his shirt.

‘No no no no no.’ Finally he managed to get his mouth to cooperate again, though his voice had shot up an octave in the process. ‘It’s not like t-that. I’m not doing this right. I’m s-sorry – I’m sorry.’

Beside him Connor opened his mouth as if to answer before seeming to reconsider. Instead he closed his eyes and inhaled deep and long through his nose, before blowing the air back out in a heavy exhale. For another moment he said nothing, and Evan could almost hear him counting as if he were trying to calm himself down. His fist was clenched against his thigh, and his jaw was tight, and Evan marvelled at how fast he’d managed to ruin the morning. It had to be a record, though he couldn’t bring himself to be proud of it.

When Connor did move again, after he’d counted to whatever number he’d decided on, he reached up and turned off the ignition. Instantly the car quietened, and Evan wondered if he was about to be kicked out. Or maybe just kicked.

‘Look. I don’t know what the fucks happening, but it sounds a lot like you think it’s going to make me angry, which is making me kind of angry. But you also look like you’re on the verge of a panic attack so just calm the fuck down and tell my why you decided this was the morning you wanted to really piss me off.’

It was interesting, watching Connor try to keep his cool. Because he really was trying. His hands had both fallen back into fists, but he’d wrapped them around the steering wheel in an attempt to keep them steady and occupied. His voice was stable but it was sharp like he was concentrating on keeping it sheathed instead of lashing out wildly like he wanted to. Like he normally would, Evan realised, and he was incredibly grateful that Connor was making the effort because his nerves were already frayed from his botched attempt at pre-emptive honesty and he wasn’t sure another slash would do them any good. But as grateful as he was he knew Connor wasn’t going to be able to tamp down his frustration for long, it was a wonder he’d be given any opportunity at all considering the mess he’d opened with, so Evan made himself swallow that saliva that had flooded his mouth, and tried again. There were a thousand ways he could broach the topic. Take two.

‘It-it was last year in the fall. I always saw Zoe around and – and I liked her. She was nice. Not many people are, uh, _nice_ you know. So I th-thought maybe she was, like, the one for me. It got in my head. The thought. And I let it live there in the back of my mind because she was nice, and it was a nice thought, and kind of harmless and normal. It felt nor-normal. People get crushes on nice girls at school all the t-time, um, and she was safe and yeah.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’

Connor’s fists were still clamped around the steering wheel but his jaw seemed less tight so Evan hoped he was heading in the right direction.

‘Because. Because it’s a thing that I have-had. I don’t kn-know. A crush. On your sister. Or like. I don’t really know her so maybe a crush on the-the-the _idea_ of your sister. Is that a thing? And I didn’t tell you but you should know because we’re friends you know. I know you know but like, that’s why I thought you should know. Because we’re friends. And I don’t want you to find out some other way and, uh, think the two things are related. Because they’re. They’re not.’

A second passed as Connor seemed to reel in the wake of Evan’s frantic explanation, before he slowly turned his head and opening his eyes to squint at Evan.

‘You’re telling me that you’re into my sister but that’s not why you’re friends with me? Am I following that right?’

Evan nodded hastily, before reconsidering the conclusion and changing it into an odd sideways bobbing of his head.

‘Uh, mainly. I like Zoe, but it’s –I’m – I don’t really know what it is anymore. I don’t think it was about her really anyway. It was more about m-me. And high school. And issues. But yeah. The second part is yeah. I just – just wanted to say that that’s not got anything to do with us being f-friends. Ok?’

Connor’s hands fell from the steering wheel and one swept through his hair pushing it away from his forehead.

‘Fuck you Hansen.’ He said, but it sounded a little dazed like Connor was still trying to find his feet in the conversation. He didn’t seem angry or on edge anymore, which was comforting.

‘Sorry.’ Evan muttered back, a little relieved when Connor scowled at him for the apology.

‘Hell of a way to start the morning, asshole.’ Connor muttered, reaching for the ignition again, and busying himself with pulling away from the kerb.

Stealing himself, Evan cast him a sideway glance.

‘Are - Is – are we ok?’

Connor let the moment linger, perhaps just a little longer than necessary, before deflating and turning to roll his eyes at Evan.

‘Yeah, fine. We’re good. I’ve got several issues with the time, place and manner you decided to tackle this issue in, but you’re a fucking mess so I can’t really hold that against you. You have awful taste in girls but that’s a whole other issue.’

He tilted his head in consideration.

‘Just so we’re clear, I’m not helping you in any way to get with my sister. If that’s your deal, then that’s _your_ deal. I’m not fucking cupid, despite the joy it might bring me to shoot both you and Zoe in the ass with arrows.’

Evan laughed quietly, fiddling with the hangnail he’d forgotten to trim. Relief poured through him in dizzying waves. In all the scenarios he’d played out in his head the night before, barely any of them had resulted in such limited blow out. Guiltily he wondered if he hadn’t given Connor enough credit, even in his own head.

‘You’d look g-good with wings.’ He said, just to watch Connor’s smile lose the shadow of forced calm that still lingered.

‘I would, wouldn’t I?’ He smirked, flicking the indicators to turn onto the main road. It took a moment to merge into traffic, but Evan couldn’t think of a follow up that didn’t sound dumb in his own head.

‘Zoe’s not my soulmate.’ He said instead as Connor impatiently cut in front of a red Prius. When he didn’t get a response he scratched his nails against his jeans and muttered, ‘just so you know.’

‘Yeah?’ Connor said carefully. ‘A conclusion from your foray into stalking?’

‘I-it wasn’t stalking,’ Evan insisted, ‘And no.’

He hadn’t even told Jared about the story, too disappointed at the time to put voice to the new discovery and pitifully content to stay clinging to his dream girl like the safety blanket she really was. Even after discovering by accident that his hopes for her were unfounded and untrue.

‘Last s-summer, just before the end of the school year I was walking to homeroom when, um, someone crashed into me from behind and I tripped. There were a couple of o-other people in the hall but they ignored me, but then Zoe ran up from behind me and she apologised for – um, well – she apologised. And then she offered me a hand up. It had all happened kind of fast, and, and I was already embarrassed about falling over in school, so I didn’t notice I’d taken her hand until I was back on my feet and she was apologising again as s-she walked away. I spent the day trying to see something other than blue, but it just didn’t happen.’

Evan didn’t know why he was telling Connor the story. Maybe it was some sort of peace offering after their disastrous morning, additional proof that Zoe had nothing to do with their friendship. Or maybe he just wanted someone to finally know the story. Saying it out loud felt a lot like closure, sealing the lid on a truth he hadn’t quite had the nerve to bury. Maybe he was just tired.

‘Huh.’ Was Connor’s eloquent response. A grunt more than anything. He squinted at Evan again.

‘Y-yeah. So – so not soulmates.’

‘I pushed you, didn’t I?’

‘W-what?’

‘You said Zoe apologised. Twice. For me, right? Because I pushed you over and didn’t stop to help.’

They took the turn to school at speed and Evan grabbed the door handle to stay steady.

‘Um, yeah. But it-it’s fine.’

Evan honestly hadn’t even remembered it at all until he was already part way into the story, and he’d hoped he’d masked it well enough for them to gloss past it. Apparently not though and Connor had tensed up again, the snapshot anger flooding him once more. Internalised. It must be exhausting, Evan thought, not for the first time. His own tired bones groaned in sympathy.

‘S-seriously Connor, it’s fine.’ Evan tried on his smile, aiming for something comforting and honest. He considered reaching out to touch Connor’s sleeve as well, something he’d seen people do when they wanted to offer support, but Connor was still driving and he didn’t want to risk distracting him or upsetting him further.

‘It was months – months ago. I’m n-not mad or anything. Accidents ha-happen.’ He chuckled humourlessly but he got no response.

Finally, as they pulled into a spot, he heard another heavy exhale and a mumbled ‘Hell of a fucking morning’ before the ignition turned off again. They’d made good time in between potential meltdowns so Evan didn’t worry about sitting in the car for a while, but he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. He’d never felt so aware of them in his whole life, useless and hovering. It was nice to have a place to wait that wasn’t a classroom full of kids ignoring him though, and with Jared now the last person he wanted to see he was happy to postpone the encounter while Connor gathered himself. He seemed to be having trouble with it.

‘I should have stopped to help you.’ He said finally, an apology not quite phrased as one.

‘It’s ok,’ Evan said again, willing Connor to understand that it really was. ‘You’d stop now wouldn’t you?’ He added to make his point clearer, tentatively sure it was true. He wondered if lingering doubt and insecurity were things he’d ever be able to fully shake.

‘I wouldn’t push you in the first place.’ Connor said instead of agreeing, and Evan smiled at the dashboard, unable to meet the eyes settled on his face. Evan enthusiastically accepted the olive branch despite not needing one in the first place, happy they’d made it over the second unexpected bump of the morning. It was nice to have the tacit apology regardless, like a balm on a cut he hadn’t known he had. He would have settled happily without it, but perhaps that said more about him than it did about what was right and wrong.

‘Hey, I meant to ask.’ Connor segued after realising Evan didn’t have anything more to say on the subject. ‘How was Kleinman’s last night.’

And there it was, the real bump in Evan’s road. No rest for the wicked. Wasn’t that a thing people said? Evan had never considered himself particularly wicked, but the world had never struck him as particularly just either so perhaps he should have known two frantically swerved hits would be followed immediately by a third looming up in the foreground. His world had never felt more like a minefield than it did in that moment. He was a fool to hope the topic wouldn’t come up, that perhaps Connor would forget or not care enough to ask. He was a fool to have not considered what he was going to say when it did inevitably come up. He was a fool.

‘Alright.’ He answered non-committedly, perhaps a little too fast, and Connor’s interest was instantly peaked judging by the way he quickly discarded his feigned disinterest for a quirked eyebrow and curious eyes.

‘You sure?’

‘Yeah.’

Instead of speaking Connor twisted in his seat until his torso was facing Evan, fixed his eyes with an eyebrow still raised on the side of Evan’s head, and waited. Evan was pretty proud that he managed to count to a solid 54 before giving in and cracking.

‘It was horrible.’ He admitted sadly, scratching at another loose thread on his shirt. He’d been finding more and more recently and knew he’d have to ask his mom to take him shopping soon. He’d learned the hard way that trying the mall solo was a recipe for panic attacks and sensory overload.

‘What happened?’

‘H-he got mad and yelled a bunch of, um, stuff.’

Connor’s arched eyebrow shot back down, joining its counterpart as they furrowed on his face.

‘He yelled at you? Why the fuck did he yell at you?’

‘Uh, it was mainly about –‘ he trailed off, not sure exactly how to phrase the catastrophe he’d been caught up in. ‘You. And me. Well, _us_.’ Which all sounded horribly juvenile but got the point across at least.

‘ _Us?’_

‘He’s, uh, he’s not really happy that we’re, you know, hanging out. He was pretty clear about t-that.’

Connor slumped back into his seat, scowling.

‘Well he can go fuck himself. Who does he think he is, your fucking bodyguard?’

Evan chuckled humourlessly.

‘I-I think ‘owner’ is probably more accurate.’

Again he found himself under Connor’s curious observation, but he couldn’t find it in him to meet the blue head on. Instead he watched the other boy from his peripheries and levelled his steady view through the smudged windscreen.

‘I-I kind of got the impression,’ he swallowed, wanting to get the words out of his head finally, but worrying he might get them wrong somehow. ‘He was m-mad that I-I wasn’t – that _he_ wasn’t my only friend anymore. Like that I had, I don’t know, another _option_ or something. Not that that’s what you are. An option. Or like you a-are, but not in a- it’s not a bad thing.’

He let his head fall into his hands to give him something to do, and shut his eyes as his raw emotions took another memory punch.

‘I-I’ve never really had friends before, so-so he knew he was the closest I had. He always talk-talked about his mom making him drive me and stuff and I took it, you know, because, um, it’s all I got really.’ Why he was still talking, Evan wasn’t entirely sure, but in the darkness of his own palms he couldn’t seem to stop, and Connor still hadn’t said word.

‘But when he-he realised we were f-friends I think he got threatened so he lashed out. It-it was awful. Like his parents, his parents were there, and he was spitting pie, and he said some really mean stuff about you and me and, uh, Zoe – that-that’s why I brought that up you know. This morning? He wanted to tell you, make you think that we – I was using you or whatever. He was so angry. That’s why I was so freaked out. I wanted, wanted to fix that first. Dr Sherman says – says break everything down into manageable steps. But the rest is so big. A-and I knew I was kind-kind of a joke to him this whole time. But this-he-what he said. He wanted to hurt me. He was trying to h-hurt me. And I still don’t really understand why.’

He finally managed to lift his head again, a little embarrassed to find his vision misty with unshed tears. When he checked his peripheries again he saw Connor’s mouth had opened, hanging half agape in the wake of Evan unloading. Maybe the morning's emotional rollercoaster had really gotten to him. He struck Evan like one of those old computers booting back up, slowly coming back online after an unsanctioned shut down. But Evan was even more tired than he’d been before, and Connor ran on pretty temperamental software on the best of days, so he decided to try pulling the plug before freak out number three could download.

‘Look, I-I’m really tired of it all. I barely slept last night. Let’s leave it for now ok?’ He shot Connor a brief look, imploring him to agree, but Connor was still stuck loading. Evan would have thought he’d be full on shouting and cussing Jared out by that point, but apparently the story had thrown him off enough to delay that.

‘I don’t want to be l-late. I-I’m going in. Are you – Is this – Are you coming in today?’

Apparently still running basic functions, Connor shook his head, still watching Evan with concern.

‘No. Not this morning. Maybe after lunch, I like English and I actually did the work for once.’

Evan nodded, glad they’d dropped the topic, and reached for the door handle, wanting to get a moment to breathe. With any luck he’d gotten the worst of his day out in quick succession and it would be plain sailing from then on. He’d have to be quick if he was going to beat the bell though. Connor stopped him though as he went to climb out, a tentative hand against his sleeve.

‘You’re going to be ok, right?’

Evan smiled reassuringly, nodding. Then curiously he tilted his head back towards Connor.

‘Y-yeah, I’ll be f-fine. But,’ he allowed a slight pause as he swallowed self-consciously, ‘If I called you to come get me, would – would that be –‘

‘Anytime Hansen. You want to ditch, I’ll come get you and we can find something better to do that share air with Jared Kleinman, the world’s biggest dick. Hey,’ he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a few times, ‘it’s on loud now as well, so even if I fall asleep, my narcoleptic ass will still get the message and swing by. No sweat.’

Inside the school, the muffled chime of the warning bell reached them. Evan’s hand was still on the door handle, so he cracked it and stuck a leg out.

‘Thanks Connor. I’ll – I’ll keep that in mind.’

And he would, because if nothing else had come from the terrible, rollercoaster of a morning, at least he knew he’d been right the night before.

If he called, Connor would come.

* * *

Evan barely made it to homeroom in time for registration. Jared looked up when he stumbled into the classroom, a little out of breath from running up the stairs, but Evan ignored him. He was a little pleased to note that even at a glance Jared looked nervous and cowed, but while he knew there was probably an uncomfortable conversation looming in their future, it certainly wasn’t on the cards for that morning.

Instead he took an odd seat in the front of the class, pressed up against the wall where it angled into the roof, and kept his head low and his eyes lower until they were dismissed. The rest of the morning passed in much the same fashion, and other than a random call out from the teacher in math, Evan managed to make it through to lunch without having to speak to anyone. There was a moment between second and third period where Evan briefly toyed with the idea of calling Connor and making good on his offer to ditch, but even the idea made his heartbeat raise, so he just went to the barely used bathrooms in the science block and ran his fingers under cold water until he felt better.

When the bell rang for lunch and Evan had retreated to his locker to retrieve the lunch he’d left there by accident in his rush that morning, Connor made a surprise reappearance. He slipped over soundlessly, like a shadow shifting between rays, and barked a laugh when Evan startled enough to lose his grip on the text book he’d been holding.

‘You’re back.’ He said unnecessarily, stooping to collect the book, turning it a couple of times to check for damages before putting it back alongside the other textbooks.

‘Nothing gets past you,’ Connor retorted, scuffing his boot against one of the neighbouring lockers. Evan noticed there was mud and grass on the sole and he wondered where Connor had been that morning, and whether there had been trees there.

‘Do you have lunch?’

This time Connor just pulled a granola bar and a can of sprite from his hoodie pocket, shrugging when Evan considered them disapprovingly. He looked down at his own crumpled lunch, peering in to see what his mom had made him for the day.

‘We’ll just have to share then.’

Connor grinned, leaning forward to drop the soda and granola bar into the bag with he rest of the food, before rocking backwards again. Evan adjusted his grip to account for the weight of the drink, trying not to shake it up anymore than Connor inevitably already had. He was definitely going to insist Connor opened it a good few feet away from him just in case. He closed his locker, about to ask Connor whether he wanted to eat in the same classroom as the day before, when a loud voice cut through the low buzz of the hallway.

‘I heard he was in juvie this summer for stabbing his dealer and they’re just letting him come to school because his parents made a deal with the cops.’

Ed Hardwick snickered into his fist from his position reclined against the wall. He had a small group of people with him, a couple of guys and a couple of girls, though the girls seemed more interested in drinking from the nearby water fountain than what Ed and his buddies were laughing at. He glanced over at Connor and Evan, smirking when he realised they’d heard his little announcement and were watching him with varying degrees of fury and fear. His friends must have noticed too as Dennis Duke pitched in, practically shouting despite the others being within arm’s length. They weren’t his main audience and they all knew it.

‘I heard he tried to burn his house down while everyone was sleeping, but he was too stupid to do it right. They all feel bad for him because now he’s a psycho _and_ a failure.’

Another round of laughter before a third, more nasally voice spoke up. Paul Ratovic levelled Connor with a challenging sneer and proclaimed:

‘Nah man, it was rehab, and I heard he got kicked out because they all agreed it would be better for everyone if he just overdosed and killed himself.’

Before Evan could even begin to formulate words that might have cooled Connor down enough to drag him away, he was across the hallway, and Paul was on the ground, holding the side of his face. Even with a fresh injury he was still smirking as he said something else, but it was too quiet for Evan to hear. Connor’s fury seemed to grow though, and he wound up to land another punch, but he stumbled backwards instead as he took Ed’s fist to his stomach. As Connor doubled over Dennis took the opportunity to push him roughly, reaching down with his other hand to pull Paul back to his feet.

Evan was frozen to the spot, watching as Connor was suddenly surrounded by the three guys. He was taller than Dennis and Paul, but they all had significant weight on him, and even as Connor snarled ferally, Evan knew there was no way this was going to end well. Just like this morning, Connor’s anger had flared fast and hot, but this time he wasn’t making any attempt to bottle it, and it was obvious he was going to go down kicking and screaming if he had to.

The water fountain girls had backed away a bit, casting nervous glances to each other, but not looking eager to get involved. The other few people unlucky enough to have been in the hall had gravitated closer, trying to work out what was happening without being pulled into it themselves.

‘Does the truth hurt, Murphy?’

Connor threw another punch, this time catching Ed in the side of the head as he was closest. Though the punch was solid, the other two were immediately on him and Connor went down, shouting and swearing, and lashing out at whatever he could hit. For a second Evan lost sight of him under the other boys and his heartbeat rocketed up. He knew he needed to get someone, a teacher, an adult, anyone, but he couldn’t stomach leaving Connor to fight them alone.

‘Stop it,’ he shouted as loud as he could, taking a shaky step forward. When they didn’t pay him any attention, he said it again. And then again. And then he was just staying it on repeat, over and over, as his legs carried him towards the violent mess of limbs writhing against linoleum. Connor had managed to get Paul on the ground with him, but the two of them were caught between Dennis and Ed’s wildly kicking feet.

When he was in reaching distance of Dennis, Evan reached out a shaky hand and tugged down on his shoulder with as much force as he could manage. He’d really only meant to pull him backwards, but his timing had coincided with Dennis launching another kick at Connor, and his one-footed balance failed him, sending him flailing back into Evan.

The two hit the floor and before Evan could process the pain in his back, Dennis had twisted around and delivered a swift punch to Evan’s face. Pain bloomed, hot and barbed, across his nose, and for a moment the whole world went black. The molasses smooth trickle of fresh blood wormed its way out of one of his nostrils before the levees broke and the trickle became a stream. When he blinked the black away, Dennis was just staring at him in shock, and Evan lifted his hand to his nose, wincing when it came back darker and stickier.

Somehow in the confusion Connor had managed to get partially back to his feet, crouched low and still scrapping with his two opponents. There was a righteous anger about him, furious and wild, that seemed to be taking Ed and Paul by surprise, and when Evan caught his eye for a fleeting second in the chaos, he might have likened him to an avenging angel. A force of nature. 

There was a piercing whistle and movement ceased instinctively. The woodshop teacher Mr Raleigh, strode through the gathered crowd angrily, casting a disbelieving eye across the scene. He ordered everyone to their feet, and Evan did so shakily, watching as the others reluctantly did the same. He stumbled a little, never having been very good with blood, especially when it was pouring out of his body in inordinate volume, but someone caught his elbow to steady him. He frowned when Jared’s nervously concerned face hovered into view, and when he felt like the ground was firm beneath him again he gently removed his arm from Jared’s grip and moved towards Connor.

Connor was a mess, deep bruises already blossoming in looming grey and black across his face and fists. His hair was tangled and matted with small patches of blood and he was holding himself awkwardly like his ribs had taken a beating. The rabid air was still hanging about him, but he let Evan shift into his orbit without protest, breathing heavily as he stared at Evan’s streaming nose.

Mr Raleigh was talking in the background, furious words that were lost on Evan. His mind felt fuzzy and loud, and he was realising with disproportionate clarity that he’d technically just been in his first fight. According to teen movies, this was probably a big deal but it was hard to focus on that when his nose was still in agony. And he had no idea what he was going to tell his mother.

‘It was Murphy sir, he went totally psycho and started whaling on us for no reason.’

Ed’s voice had pitched into something akin to a small child trying to play innocent. Picking up his lead once again, the other’s chimed in too with their own stories, vehemently denying they had any part in setting off the ‘unstable mental-case’ and showing off their injuries.

‘And how are you involved, Mr Hansen?’ Mr Raleigh asked, suddenly noticing Evan bleeding all over the place.

Dennis cut in instead, ‘He’s crazy too. I was trying to stop the whole thing and he hit me from behind and tried to tackle me to the ground. It shocked me so I must have elbowed him to get him off me, I guess. He was trying to help Murphy, they’re friends or something.’

Under his breath Paul muttered something decidedly homophobic and Connor shot forward, ready to go for him again. This time Evan’s instincts, still blaring on all fronts, reacted fast enough to catch his arm, his fingers grabbing onto Connor’s forearm before sliding off of the cuffed sleeve and around his bare wrist. The aborted movement didn’t go unnoticed by Mr Raleigh who turned on Connor, reaching out to grip his shoulder. Evan’s hand fell away.

‘Mr Murphy, I advise you calm down right now. You are in a whole heap of trouble, you really don’t want to make this worse for yourself. All of you are heading straight to the Principal right now. So help me if you even so much as _look_ at each other on the way there, I will have you thrown out of this school faster than you can blink. Am I understood?’

He waited until there was a murmur of agreement before remembering Evan again.

He cast his eyes over the sparse crowd of students, ‘I need a volunteer to take Mr Hansen to the nurse. Mr Hansen, get yourself cleaned up and discharged before reporting straight to the Principal with the others.’

Someone came forward, hovering at Evan’s side, but he didn’t look up. People were moving again in the hallway, Mr Raleigh steered Connor and one of the other boys ahead of him, and the others trailed behind, resigned to their fate. The person to Evan’s right cleared their throat and Evan realised it was Jared again, trying to get his attention, but still he didn’t look up.

He couldn’t.

All he could do was stare at his hands, covered in his own blood, and think that red was a pretty nice colour after all.


	9. Chapter 9

The walk to the nurse’s office was silent.

When Jared had realised Evan wasn’t going to move on his own, still fixated on the blood on his hands, he’d lightly gripped his elbow and begun to steer him through the corridors. The halls were fairly empty, most people still in the cafeteria, but they got a few startled looks from the students hanging around in the hallways when they noticed Evan’s busted nose and dazed output.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Evan knew he should be in a lot more pain than he was. The hollow tingle across his face should be screaming at him, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to tune into it. Shock, he assumed, was the barrier holding it all back. Panic, if he was being honest, was lending a hand in the equation too.

The nurse gasped when she saw him, which he thought probably wasn’t the most professional response, but she covered it well, pulling him into the examination room and shoving a clump of tissues into his hand while she fussed through a cupboard. She made no move to acknowledge Jared, so he hovered just beyond the doorway, looking hesitant and unsure. Behind his glasses his eyes were wide and glossy as they watched the nurse probe at the tender bridge of Evan’s nose.

Perhaps the shock had worn off slightly, because Evan could suddenly feel the pain as latex fingertips skirted across his skin like sharp needles. He made a noise of protest, a sound more than a word, but the nurse hummed in understanding and backed away.

‘You’re very lucky, it’s not broken. However, you took quite a hit to the face, and you’re going to have one hell of a bruise in the morning. To be safe I’m going to give you some painkillers and keep you here until the bleeding stops, and if it all still looks good, you can go out and enjoy the rest of your lunch period.’

‘I-I have to go to the Pr-principal.’ Evan corrected, accepting the pills and plastic cup she held out towards him. They tasted chalky even through the iron of his own blood.

‘Do you? And why’s that?’

‘There was a fight.’ Evan muttered, tucking his chin towards his chest before the nurse tutted and tipped it back up, wadding even more tissues against the improbable blood still trickling out. She seemed to have a sudden opinion on the fight but didn’t get a chance to throw her two cents in, as the waiting room door opened and two girls stumbled in, one supporting the other. One of the girls was clearly keeping pressure off of her foot, and her face was ruddy and streaked from the pain. Red, Evan realised. She was red.

Quickly, Evan was shooed away from the examination table. The friend was already babbling about soccer, and illegal tackles, and hurt ankles, so Evan, backed up to the wall to let the girls through, breathing wetly through the tissues. They barely spared him a glance, but the nurse did take a moment to point at him, then at the waiting room, before turning back to the girl who was now openly crying.

Evan retreated.

He was surprised to find Jared still lingering in the waiting room, picking at a shelf of old yearbooks with disinterest. When Evan collapsed into one of the worn armchairs that smelt like dust and disinfectant, he turned away from the shelf but stayed standing. The door to the examination room closed, leaving them with just the muffled voices within, and the silence without.

‘Are you ok?’

Evan spared him a glance that he hoped conveyed just how stupid he felt that particular question was. Jared raised his hands placatingly, and even though Evan was pretty sure the action was sincere, he still felt like he was being mocked. The whole day was starting to feel like a cruel joke at his expense.

‘Shit man, I’m just asking because you got fucking punched in the face. I’ve not even been punched in the face. That’s serious shit right there.’

If Evan wasn’t Evan, he’d offer to punch Jared in the face then and there. But Evan was Evan so all he did was shrug and turn to look out the window.

‘Ok, look. I’m sorry Evan. I know what I did last night was beyond shitty. I know I said some terrible things and I know you really didn’t deserve any of them. Trust me, the 3 hour lecture I got from my parents really got the point across that I’m the biggest asshole to ever open his mouth and vomit toxic shit all over innocent people. I suck. You have every right to be mad at me.’

‘W-why?’

‘Why do you have the right to be mad?’

‘No, why – why did you say those, those things?’

Evan knew why he’d said those things. He was pretty confident he’d figured it out hyperventilating in the courtyard of Jared’s apartment block. But he wanted to know whether Jared knew why he’d done it. He wanted to hear Jared say it.

‘Because I’m an asshole.’

Evan sighed in disappointment, still watching a tree twitch in the wind behind the frosted glass window.

‘Go away Jared. Go back to, to lunch. I’m fine.’

Jared swore under his breath, readjusted his glasses, and wiped his palms on his jeans like they were sweating. But he didn’t leave.

‘No. No, shit Evan. I’m a coward alright. I’m a coward and I got jealous and defensive and it came out like that. I didn’t know I was going to say that shit.’ He collapsed into one of the other chairs, resting his elbows on his knees and his forehead in his hands.

‘It just, I was angry you know. About a whole bunch of stuff. My sister just got scouted by some big company for when she graduates, and my parents won’t stop going on about it to me. About how proud they are and how amazing she is. And this girl I hooked up with at summer camp stopped returning my messages and blocked me on Instagram. And I found out the guys in my bunk have a separate group chat without me. And then you come around talking about how you’re now best buds with Connor Murphy somehow and I just blew the fuck up.

‘When mom told me to invite you round I thought we could just hang out like we used to and I could calm the hell down and chill out about everything else. Because you don’t change Evan, you’re a pretty constant guy, and I figured that was what I needed. But you didn’t complain about the music in the car, and then you got upset when I started in on Murphy, and then you told my parents about your new _friend_ and it’s no excuse Evan, it really isn’t, but I realised that absolutely everyone in my life was moving forward, and none of them were taking me with them. It’s pathetic right? Who the hell doesn’t realise they don’t have any friends until they’re sixteen?’

Evan glanced at Jared’s slumped form. He tried to summon the anger he’d felt the night before, even that morning, but he couldn’t grasp it. It was there, he remembered it vividly, but it was less tangible now. Dwarfed by much more real concerns. Looking at Jared, listening to what he said, it felt an awful lot like looking into a mirror. The insecurity, the loneliness, plain in his voice, that was torture Evan knew well, one that did more damage than anything Evan could say.

‘We used to be friends.’ Evan said instead, his voice muffled by his blocked nose. Jared removed his head from his hands.

‘Yeah, when did that stop?’

‘When you stopped seeing me as a p-person and more as a – as a joke.’

Jared squinted at him, face contorting as he processed that.

‘I don’t think you’re a _joke_ Evan.’

‘All you ever d-do is make fun of me. It was fine a- at first, just jokes between friends I- I get that. But you got worse, way worse the more I didn’t stop you, and it started to hurt. It hurts, some of the t-things you say. A-and you don’t care enough to notice. T-that’s why you shouted – shouted at me yesterday, because you were angry, but half of that stuff, is st-stuff you’d say to me an-anyway. But as a joke. Y-you think it doesn’t count when it’s a joke. But it does – it does count.’

For a moment it looked like Jared would protest, but it washed over his face, disappearing, leaving only a strangely contrite Jared in its wake.

‘Maybe you’re right,’ he conceded, far easier than Evan would have imagined he would. ‘Once I started, those things came pretty naturally, I guess I was just used to saying them in another context. God, that sounds awful.’

‘I-I’m sorry Jared, but you-you’re mean. Not all the time, but sometimes. A-and not just to me. Y-you said some, some really horrible things about Connor and you don’t even kn-know him.’

And god, Connor. He hadn’t had time to think about all of that. What the hell was he going to do now knowing that somehow Connor Murphy was his soulmate. When he’d imagined the day – spectral, ethereal Zoe Murphy smiling up at him as they clasped hands – he’d never considered the reality of finding himself gushing blood in the school nurse’s office while his soulmate, the decidedly more _male_ Murphy, was potentially being read his rights across campus.

He wasn’t sure if it was the injury or the situation that was leaving his head spinning.

‘I know I haven’t been great to the guy, honestly he fully freaks me out, but that’s not really his problem. I-I’ll apologise to him or something. Or just not call him a psycho anymore. I don’t know. Honestly Evan, I don’t know how to fix this. I’m a total shithead that has only just now realised he’s a total shithead and no longer wants to be a shithead. How do I do that? What’s the first move in that dance?’

There were three red books on the bookshelf. There were five blue ones. Evan was suddenly finding it harder to breathe. He really, really didn’t want to have a panic attack in the waiting room of the school nurse, holding blood-soaked tissues to his bruised face with his broken arm while Jared Kleinman had a existential meltdown across from him. It sounded like such an exhausting thing to do.

‘I think I-I’m having a panic attack.’ He managed to choke out and Jared was instantly standing again, hands hovering as he realised he had no idea what to do. Evan closed his eyes, letting the tissues fall away. He didn’t care if he was still bleeding, getting sufficient oxygen was suddenly a much more pressing issue.

And then Jared was crouched in front of him, hands still hovering, but he was talking slow and calm. Telling Evan to breathe, counting breaths with him and assuring him that they were ok. It reminded Evan of the boy who wiped his tears and showed him how to make shadow puppets. It reminded him of the old Jared. Slowly his breathing evened out and he managed to slow his heart down enough to evade the full-on attack. When he blinked his eyes open, Jared’s worried, glossy eyes were staring straight at him and he had to look away. Outside the wind had picked up again.

‘Did I – was that because of me? And what I said?’

Evan shook his head not ready to talk yet.

‘Oh, ok. Good. So not what I was going for.’ He attempted a smirk, and though Evan couldn’t return it he did find himself appreciating the effort. A moment of normality. ‘Is it your nose? Do you need me to get the nurse?’

He shook his head again. Across the courtyard there was a red door, one of the cushions on the wood-backed chair had a red tassel hanging from it, one of the lines on Jared’s multi streaked trainer was deep, vivid red. It was too much new vying for space in his rattled head. He wanted his mom, he wanted to curl up and pour out his problems in a cloud of her floral perfume. He wanted Connor, he wanted to show him the sky, the person he was supposed to share this moment with. He wanted Dr Sherman, wanted him to sit calmly and coolly across the room, hacking through the myriad of thoughts and feelings coursing through Evan until they were fractured bits small enough to traverse, rather than the hulking mass of fate and shock he was finally having time to focus on.

Instead he had Jared. Broken, arrogant, insecure Jared who seemed to be trying to shoehorn himself into his own Christmas Carol-esque realisation.

But he was going to have to do.

‘It happened Jared.’ He whispered into the room.

‘What? What happened?’

‘My soulmate. It happened. I can see red n-now.’

‘Oh shit.’ It wasn’t a helpful response, but it did mimic several facets of Evan’s emotional state and that was somewhat appreciated.

‘Who is it?’ Jared paused and then his eyes locked onto Evan, suddenly pinning him. ‘Don’t tell me it’s the guy that punched you.’

Evan hadn’t even considered the possibility of Dennis being his soulmate. The idea was so wrong even the thought felt prickly in his brain. And even replaying the events of the last hour he knew that he’d still been seeing in monochrome even after he’d stumbled to Connor’s side.

‘N-no. It’s not Dennis.’

‘Then who? I saw most of what went down and you didn’t go near any one el-‘

Evan swallowed reflexively as he waited for Jared to finish his own thought.

‘Murphy?’ he asked eventually, only raising an eyebrow when Evan nodded. ‘You know, it was meant to be a joke when I called him your boyfriend.’

Jared delivered it as a joke, but neither of them laughed. It wasn’t particularly funny. 

‘I d-don’t know what to do.’

‘Yeah,’ Jared breathed, still seemingly caught on the realisation that Connor was Evan’s soulmate. Evan would have been offended if he wasn’t similarly caught on the idea. Collapsing back into his own chair with a terrible squeak of wood, Jared pushed his glasses back up his nose.

‘Ok, so this is wild. But it’s – it’s ok. We can deal with this. Um, I guess the first thing is: how are you feeling about it?’

Swallowing hard, Evan winced as it somehow hurt his nose. The next few days were going to be miserable.

‘Scared. N-nervous. Confused.’

‘Ok, but like, how are you feeling about the fact that it’s Connor. Connor _Murphy_.’

‘Oh,’ Evan paused to consider the question, ‘Good, I guess. I like Connor, he’s, he’s nice. A-and he has blue eyes. A-and he’s my friend.’

‘Are you into him?’

‘What?’

Jared sighed again.

‘Are you into him? Romantically? Sexually?’

Evan flushed instantly, hating the way Jared’s eyebrows twitched suggestively at the mention of anything sexual.

‘N-no. I-I-I, no. I don’t – I don’t know.’ He bit his lip, ‘Maybe?’

He waited for Jared to pounce on the admission, claws out, but he didn’t. He just nodded like what Evan had said made sense and was what he’d expected. For years to come Evan would be eternally thankful for existential crises in times of need. They were doing wonders for Jared’s empathy.

‘Well you can probably work that out later. I assume he needs to have some say in that anyway. Next, why are you scared?’

‘Be-because what if he’s angry about it? What if h-he doesn’t want to be my soulmate? I-I’m not a good – he won’t w-want – this is such a mess. H-he might hate me. And he’s going to be in so much trouble. What if he g-gets kicked out of school. His parents will be so mad at him.’

He tucked his chin back into his chest because the nurse wasn’t there to tell him not to. He was pretty sure the blood was drying out anyway. Jared watched him warily before sighing deeply, sinking further into his slump.

‘Man. I know I’m the worst person to be here right now. I know I have no right to say anything to you and expect you to believe it after last night, but seriously Evan. If Connor has a problem with you being his soulmate then he’s an idiot.’ He smiled and paused before adding wryly, ‘Take it from an idiot. And yeah, maybe you’ll have to have some horribly awkward conversations about how you want to play this thing, but you’re a good guy and it’s not like you actually did anything he’d be stupid to be angry at you about it. And I’ve called Connor Murphy a lot of things in my time, but I don’t get the impression he’s stupid.

‘Look, I’m not going to tell you to relax because I know you well enough to know that’s a losing battle. But I don’t know, why don’t we give Murphy a bit of credit and give him a chance to prove he’s not going to be a douche about this? Chances are he’s probably as freaked out as you are and wondering how much _you’re_ panicking. Which, compared to what I would have expected is actually quite minimal.’

Evan untucked his chin and ripped up one of the blood spotted tissues in his hand. It came apart easily, like cotton wool.

‘I assume it’s the shock.’

Jared laughed, surprised.

‘Was that a joke?’

Evan shrugged, smiling weakly at his hands. He didn’t get a chance to say anything more as the nurse took that moment to bustle out of her office, the girls still inside, and bend down in Evan’s personal bubble. He fought the urge to flinch away, reluctantly letting her tip his chin up and down as she checked him over.

‘Hmm, it looks like the blood has all dried up. I’m going to let you go now, but if you start feeling lightheaded, nauseous, or the bleeding starts up again, you need to come straight back here. Do you understand?’

Evan nodded, instantly noting a sudden flash of pain, and tried to remember to never do it again. Satisfied, the nurse stood and reached behind her for a small, wicker garbage bin. She gestured for Evan to drop his soiled tissue pieces into it and then disappeared back into her office. Again, she hadn’t acknowledged Jared and he seemed a little put out by it.

‘I should probably g-go to the Principle now.’ Evan said, though he really wished he didn’t have to. He couldn’t imagine the stories the other boys would have weaved together during his patch up, and facing them sounded like the last thing he wanted to do. But Connor was already there, and it wasn’t like he could outrun his punishment for long, so he pushed himself up and brushed imaginary dust from his clothes, letting the action calm him.

‘Just tell them what really happened, Evan. Connor may have thrown the first punch, but those guys were baiting him and that’s messed up. That’s got to count for something, and I bet they’ll leave that part out of the story. And like, you didn’t even hit anyone. Yeah you went into the fight for some reason, but you were trying to stop it. Tell them that. It’ll be fine.’

A little surprised, Evan tilted his head in Jared’s direction. He hadn’t realised Jared had been there the whole time, but considering how quickly he’d been at his side helping Evan up after Dennis punched him, it made sense.

‘Y-yeah.’ He said, wondering if it would be enough. Whether his hell of a day was set to get any worse. Out of nowhere he realised he’d dropped his lunch somewhere in the fight and had never picked it back up. He felt bad for whoever had to clean it up.

Jared moved towards the door first, awkwardly holding it open so that Evan could follow him out. Much like their initial journey, they walked a few hallways in silence, before coming to the turning that led down to the administrative wing. They paused, firmly on unsteady ground.

‘Good luck,’ Jared said, with his normal smirk in place. But Evan thought that maybe it was a bit kinder than it used to be. A bit more genuine. He nodded in response, turning to leave before rethinking it.

‘H-hey Jared?’ Jared looked back over his shoulder, curiously. ‘You wanted to know what th-the first step to fixing this was right? This was it. Th-thank you.’

The smile he got in return was quite possibly the realest expression Jared had ever given him. Warm and grateful, but still a little spiky round the eyes. A step in the right direction down the road they should have always been on. Promising, if not a promise.

Evan left him behind and walked on.

* * *

Connor was slumped in one of the visitor chairs in the reception when Evan stepped in. The receptionist saw him first, snatching up her desk phone to let the Principal know, but Connor wasn’t far behind, his head snapping round as the door clicked shut.

For a moment they just stared at each other.

‘You can see it, right?’

Evan hadn’t known he was worried about Connor not having felt it, about it not being reciprocated, until the moment the worry was removed. It was really, honestly true.

‘Yeah.’ Evan breathed, unsure eyes still locked on Connor. For his part Connor was staring at Evan’s shirt like it was a revelation. 

‘I- ‘ but Connor didn’t get to finish his thought because the receptionist cut across him, tone kind but forceful.

‘Mr Hansen, Mr DeWitt will see you now. Please head straight into his office.’

She came around the desk, a file in one hand and her other palm open. Briskly, she ushered Evan towards the frosted glass door in the corner of the room. He twisted, trying to look back at Connor, but she tutted and tapped him on the side of the head with the file, nudging him away before he could say anything else. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, but he wanted to be with Connor. Just for a little while. He hadn’t even had a chance to check he was ok.

Mr DeWitt, nodded as he entered. Dennis, Paul and Ed were all slumped in seats across the desk from him, evidently finishing up their own conversation. They seemed unconcerned with his appearance, apparently confident in their position. A world away from how he was feeling. With a flip of his hand, Mr DeWitt dismissed them back into the reception and gestured at Evan to take one of the unoccupied seats.

‘Well, Mr Hansen. This is not how I was envisioning spending my lunchtime. Would you like to explain to me what happened?’ He looked weary as he spoke, like a man who’d heard the same thing too many times, but never failed to be disappointed when it came back around again.

‘Uh,’ Evan thought back to Jared’s advice but couldn’t recall how he’d phrased it all. It had sounded simple when he’d said it, clear and concise, but the words had evolved somehow in Evan’s head. A different beast he hadn’t tamed and that would be no use to him.

‘It – I – We were talking. By my locker. Me and Connor. A-and, um, Ed started saying stuff about Connor.’

‘To you,’ Mr DeWitt cut in.

‘N-no. He was saying it to his friends. But in a way that it was, um, clear that he wanted Connor to hear him.’

‘Ok, and then what happened?’

‘Uh, then Paul and Dennis started saying things too. They were – they were saying really terrible things s-sir. They were trying to make C-Connor angry on purpose.’

‘And from the rest of the story, I gather they were successful?’

That was thing wasn’t it? For all he understood why Connor had flipped out, for all he empathised with losing control and wanting to lash out at a world that never gave them a chance, he couldn’t escape the simple fact that Connor was the one who’d thrown the first punch. And that meant he was the one they were going to come down on hardest.

‘Well, y-yes. Connor threw the first punch.’ He watched Mr DeWitt scribble something down on a piece of paper and hurried on. ‘But that’s – he can’t take the whole blame for it. I-I don’t know what the others said but they weren’t trying to stop the fight. Connor hit Paul once, but then they all turned on h-him. They were all hitting him. All three of them. It wasn’t fair. They di-didn’t stop when he fell down, they were laughing about it. Connor – Connor shouldn’t have punched them first sir, but if – if he hadn’t fought back then they would have really hurt him.’

Mr Dewitt steepled his hands and considered Evan. There was a purse to his lips as he left Evan to fidget for a moment.

‘And where do you fit in, Mr Hansen?’

Evan had almost forgotten he was there to defend himself as well, so fixated on backing up Connor’s side of the story.

‘Oh, I just wanted to h-help. I told them to – to stop when they knocked Connor over, but they wouldn’t, they didn’t listen. So I tried to pull them away. I-I was just trying to get them to leave him alone, but Dennis over balanced and fell on me. When he realised what had happened he, uh, he punched me.’ Evan gestured to his bandaged face with shaking hands. ‘Mr Raleigh stopped the fight after that.’

Again, Mr DeWitt considered him over his hands, before consulting his notes again.

‘It’s interesting because your story is rather different to the other three boys’.’

Evan thought it would be rude to point out that there was an obvious reason for that. And he knew that if he brought the idea of self-preservation to the table, it could easily be flipped on him.

‘W-what about Connor’s?’

‘Ah, yes, Mr Murphy made it rather clear he didn’t want to discuss the situation. I get the impression his repeat visits to my office over the years haven’t endeared me to him.’

‘I promise I’m telling the truth Mr DeWitt.’ Evan said desperately, frowning when he got a sad smile in return. It had never occurred to him that Connor wouldn’t even try to fight his own corner.

‘And I appreciate that Evan. But the truth is, the evidence isn’t in yours or Connor’s favour. The three other boys claim Mr Murphy started the fight unprovoked, and that when they tried to stop him you joined in. As it stands, it’s your word alone against three corroborating accounts. Now I’ll admit that your story does have its own merits, and your record shows that you don’t have a history of fighting, however the same can not be said for Connor. I’ve seen him in my office many times over the years for starting fights, and he knows he’s skating on thin ice.’

Evan’s mind flashed to a hooded Connor stalking the halls with inky bruises across his knuckles. The seething spectre that no one saw beyond. A scapegoat that haunted himself.

‘T-that’s not true. Well, yes it _is_ true but he doesn’t start fights. He gets angry and he l-lashes out but there’s always a reason. A-a-and that needs to be acknowledged because it’s important. And wrong. And people ignore what happens to h-him. Just because it’s not physical doesn’t mean it’s not vi-violent. T-they told him to k-kill himself Mr DeWitt. That’s, that’s not ok, is it?’

The crease between Mr DeWitt’s eyebrows deepened as Evan spoke, and he scratched at a spot on his neck. The knot of his tie was wonky, and Evan fought the urge to ask him to straighten it.

‘Well, that is certainly concerning information.’ Mr DeWitt said carefully, ‘And something I will definitely need to look into further. Our anti-bullying policies forbid language like that, and if the boys said anything to that effect, they will be facing severe punishment. However, this does not excuse a physical altercation, one which by your own account Mr Murphy instigated. While your own role in the fight is unclear to me at the moment, and this is your first infraction, it is very possible that we will have to consider expulsion in his case.’

When Evan went to speak again, hands trembling and stomach roiling, Mr DeWitt glanced at his watch before holding up a hand to stop him.

‘We’re not making any decisions at this point in time, the senior faculty will have to discuss what we think the appropriate punishments for each of you will be. We’ve called your parents and your mother is on her way to collect you and take you home. When a decision has been reached, we will let you each know the verdict but until then I cannot advise on anyone’s futures. I appreciate your input into the situation, and hope you take whatever punishment is given to you as an opportunity to reflect on what has happened.’

When Evan didn’t answer, sinking in the realisation that he hadn’t done enough, said enough, been enough to keep Connor afloat, Mr DeWitt gestured at his door.

‘I have a lot of work to do Mr Hansen, if you could wait in the reception until your mother arrives that would be appreciated.’

Unsteadily, Evan got to his feet. There was a clock on the wall with small, red hour marks. A certificate beside it with a red crest embellishing the top. This was supposed to be a good day, the best day a person could have, but it was drowning him. Holding him under the surface and pushing him further and further down. The snapshot memory of branches whipping at him as the ground hurtled closer sent him reeling. He needed space, he needed to breathe. He needed Connor.

The reception was quiet when he stepped back into it. A few of the chairs had moved, and Ed was slumped in another, tapping at his phone and avoiding eye contact. A printer whirred in the corner and the receptionist spun to greet it. A fern by the door rustled in the breeze from a cracked window.

But Connor was gone.

* * *

Three hours later, the receptionist had just finished organising her desktop folders, and was tidying a stack of alumni magazines on her desk, when the door opened. Curious, she looked up to see a student peering in and beckoned him forward with a smile. He seemed nervous and twitchy and she had to admit it was a welcome oddity in what had been a largely uneventful afternoon.

‘Hello, can I help you?’

The boy’s eyes skittered across the raised bank of her desk. It was something she’d noticed a lot in her time at the school. The strange teenage juxtaposition between cocky children and awkward adults. All these kids who insisted they were grown up, but struggled to look authority in the eye. It was endearing, she thought, remembering her own delusions of maturity when she’d been their age.

But as she watched the boy he inhaled once, squared his shoulders and dragged his eyes up to meet hers.

‘Is Mr DeWitt in?’

‘Yes, he’s in his office. Would you like me to see if he’d available?’

The boy tightened his fists where they were gripping his backpack straps but nodded confidently. Picking up the receiver of her desk phone, the receptionist paused.

‘And what would you like to talk to him about? And what’s your name sweetheart?’

The boy bit at his lip nervously, but after a moment released it.

‘I want to talk to him about the fight at lunch today. My names Jared Kleinman.’


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god guys, I swear I used to be a semi decent writer but after 4 rewrites and so much procrastination this is still a terrible mess. We're going to have to just go with it I'm afraid...  
> 

Connor turned the corner of the page he was reading before dropping the book on his bed. His neck ached where it had been pushed up against the headboard, the bruises there still fresh enough to protest the treatment. Rolling his shoulders he slid off the bed, pausing to check the time on the old alarm clock he’d dragged out from some drawer.

It was past 11pm. The moon was bright outside his locked window, and the house was quiet around him. Another cloying weekend drawing to a close. He managed to find some level of comfort in knowing his parents would likely be asleep, even if the newly installed security camera on their driveway meant he was no less trapped than when they were patrolling him each day.

His phone, laptop and car keys had all been taken and squirrelled away somewhere without the promise to ever get them back. The lock on his window was new, as was the camera out front, and worst of all were the self-help and parenting books his mom had presented him over a stony Friday night dinner with the hope that reading them would help him ‘ _understand his actions from her point of view’_. He didn’t bother asking whether she’d be returning the favour, because in all of the afternoon’s yelling and screaming they’d never once asked for his side of the story.

A call from the school had come in early on Saturday morning. The Principal had waited for his mom to gather them together in the living room, Connor annoyed at having been woken up before midday, before announcing the school’s decision.

One-week suspension, two weeks of in school detention.

From the hush that had followed, Connor knew that he wasn’t the only one who’d expected immediate expulsion. His fists throbbed with he evidence. His mom had fallen all over herself thanking the Principal profusely and promising that Connor was sorry. Connor wasn’t sorry, not really, but he stayed quiet. What was the point of speaking up when no one wanted to hear it? Playing the lion that cried wolf never worked. Everyone just assumed the lion did it.

So he’d taken the hit, like he’d taken all the others and retreated as soon as possible.

He’d wasted the rest of Saturday holed up in his room leafing through one of the colour charts he’d swiped from a draw. As the 24 hours cycled through, he couldn’t drag himself away from the swatches, fascinated as they revealed themselves to him one by one until the page was awash with colour. It made his head spin and his hands shake and when he started picking up on the splashes of colour hidden in his own room, he got dizzy and had to lie down. But slowly that faded too and by Sunday he’d wandered though every room in the house, seeing it all again for the first time.

He’d wanted to laugh the moment he realised how much his mother had integrated her own colour into the décor. Great swathes of pink floral trailed from room to room, unseen and unnoticed over the years by every other member of the household. His father’s green was less evident, announcing itself only in the leaves of well-tended houseplants and the dust jackets of rarely read books. But when Connor passed the cracked door of his study, he caught a glimpse of green leather and he supposed that made sense. His parent’s worlds touched, but they never fully collided. Their marriage, their children, their reputation, they were all touchpoints along the seams of their lives, but they tended to them each from their own sides, never using them to cross over. Connor had known that of their relationship, even if he hadn’t been looking it would have been evident, but somehow he’d never felt it more keenly than when he’d watched their colours bounce off each other. Never quite mixing, even in the small areas they met. Existing in the same house, but never fully integrated.

He’d disappeared back to the safety of his room when his dad had come home, green tennis bag slung over his shoulder and outfit still pristine. In a passing moment Connor wondered if his father liked the country club so much because of how green it was, how much of it he could see, or whether it was just another affectation of his status. An expected asset for a man of his station. Connor was never likely to ask, so he would likely never know.

He’d hoped to be able to smoke before dinner, but with his window locked and his mom cooking in the kitchen he’d had to sit through the affair sober and pissed while his parent’s pointedly asked Zoe about her week at school, and tried to lure him into an apology he was never going to give. He’d scoffed at the bright pink serving bowl his mom had piled sliced fruit into for dessert, but only shrugged when she called him on it, pretending he could only see a fuzzy shade of grey.

He had managed to grab a smoke after all the washing up was humming happily in the dishwasher, his first since the whole mess had begun. He’d tucked himself down the side passage, back pressed to the brickwork, and eyes watching the puffs of smoke dissipate. It did wonders for chasing away the last of the dizziness the colours had left behind. It settled the world around him, dulling the colours and smoothing them over. He’d watched the stars start to blink to life in the sky above him and wondered, not for the first time, what Evan was doing in that moment.

Connor had contemplated the side gate for long, drawn out minutes and imagined himself crossing though it. High and looser than he had been in days, he could admit that he wanted to see Evan, wanted to make sure he was ok. It wasn’t something he was used to feeling at all, but he didn’t dislike the notion as much as he thought he might. But he could also admit that he was scared and that was keeping him prisoner as much as the locks and cameras were. His mind had fixated on the last time he’d seen Evan, nervous and terrified, flushed face already bruising around a bandage, and he knew there was a chance that everything that had happened might be enough to end their tentative friendship for Evan. He just hadn’t had a chance to tell Connor.

Connor had never claimed to be a prize in any way but dragging his soulmate face first into a fist fight was a low even he hadn’t seen coming. He desperately wanted to see Evan, but it was the thought that Evan might not want to see him that had him crushing the end of his joint underfoot and heading back inside, leaving the side gate untouched.

Call him a coward. People had called him much worse.

But all of that lead to Connor watching the fluorescent digits on his old alarm clock tick past 11pm, restless and agitated, with nowhere to go. Sighing, he picked up the glass from his bedside table and descended through the house. He made sure to avoid the three creaky stairs and left the lights off until he reached the safety of the kitchen, loathe to disturb anyone else in the house.

He drained the first glass he poured in seconds, stopping to refill it. But as he was replacing the jug in the fridge he paused, hearing shuffling from the hallway. Turning his head he spotted Zoe at the bottom of the stairs, already looking back at him. She was holding a collection of crockery and silverware, balanced precariously, likely collected in her room over the weekend and ignored until last minute.

After her surprise passed she carried on into the kitchen barely acknowledging Connor. For his part he finished replacing the water jug before leaning back against the fridge, glass in hand. He kept his eyes on Zoe, wondering if she could feel them. If she could, she didn’t mention it.

Instead she took note of the full dishwasher, ready to be unpacked, and opted instead for the sink, dropping her dishes in and flicking the hot water on. Again neither of them acknowledged each other, and the minutes passed with only light splashing and the clink of crockery. When she’d finished she shut off the water, dried her hands on a dish towel and took a moment to stare out of the window above the sink into the darkness of their backyard.

Then abruptly she turned to Connor.

‘You’re acting weird.’ She said, a line pulling down between her furrowed brows.

Thrown, he just shrugged, lifting the glass for another sip of water.

‘ _Why_ are you acting weird?’ She tried again when it was clear he wasn’t going to answer.

‘I’m not doing anything.’

Turning fully to face him she leant her hip against the counter and crossed her legs at the ankle. After a second she crossed her arms as well and huffed.

‘Exactly. You haven’t done anything. You haven’t yelled or screamed or tried to sneak out. And it’s weird Connor. Are you sick? Is the world ending? Have you finally smoked yourself non-verbal?’

Her tone was mocking but he could see from the slight squint of her eyes that she was genuinely curious too. He supposed she had a point. This was hardly his first infraction, and each time before he’d fought his sentence with everything he had. But this time his heart just wasn’t in it. It was locked in closed door meetings with his head as they tried to puzzle out exactly what the hell was going on. Who had time to fight on pointless fronts when the battle inside was suddenly so important.

But Zoe didn’t know that. Couldn’t know that.

‘Just don’t see the point fighting it. Not like anyone listens to me anyway.’

Her head tilted slightly, the braid slipping out from behind her ear only to be tucked back into place immediately.

‘Can you blame them?’

He couldn’t, not really, not honestly. But sometimes he could. Sometimes he thought that they were trying their best. That they were trying to guide him down the right path, unaware he’d slipped off of it years ago and they’d lost sight of him. Every direction they gave, every suggestion, it meant nothing to him where he was. He wasn’t where they thought he was supposed to be, but they never tried to reach him where he’d ended up, they just pretended he could still get back to where they wanted him to be. Even though that road didn’t even exist anymore.

But sometimes he thought that even if they were trying their best, it didn’t absolve them of everything they’d done. Everything they’d not done. Sometimes their best wasn’t good enough. If it was true for him, it had to be true for them too. He knew he was difficult, but they were difficult too. No one ever acknowledged that.

He didn’t say any of that to Zoe though, instead he just shrugged again and ran a socked toe across the line of grout between the kitchen tiles. He expected her to leave, he couldn’t actually remember the last time they’d swapped more than two sentences without getting into an argument about something and it was a sad realisation. They’d never been close, but it was still a shock to realise exactly how far away they were from each other. Worlds away. Miles between them. Four feet apart in their kitchen.

Zoe hadn’t left though. She was still watching him with her head slightly tilted like she was trying to solve a puzzle. It was frustrating her that she couldn’t. Her foot was twitching in irritation, the same way it usually did beneath the table before she kicked him. Finally, she breathed out though her nose.

‘Ok seriously, something is up. What is it?’

Connor knew he could leave and she wouldn’t follow him. She might throw a few words after him, but she’d write it off as his normal behaviour, no more disappointing than usual. It was his signature move, the evasive storm out. And he was almost certain it was what Zoe was expecting. But he was so tired of being predictable.

‘I got my colours.’

He let the admission hang for a moment, emotionally blank as he took another sip of water. Her face registered the information in increments, her brows furrowing, then her eyes widening before her mouth slackened around whatever words she’d had lined up.

‘What?’ she exclaimed; her voice hushed to a half whisper. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Yeah.’

‘As in you met your soulmate?’

‘Yeah’

She rubbed her knuckles across her eyes, pressing them there for a second before looking back at him. The shock seemed to be lingering, and he found himself amused watching her flounder around for what she wanted to say.

‘So… so who is it?’

He’d known the question was coming but he still considered it for a moment before deciding to answer. He realised he hadn’t said it out loud yet. He wondered if saying it would change anything.

‘Evan Hansen.’

Nothing broke. Nothing changed. The world still turned. Evan Hansen was his soulmate. He supposed the world had already known; it wasn’t exactly news to anyone but them.

For her part Zoe just snorted.

‘Oh god, poor Evan.’ She laughed, grimacing dramatically. She was needling at him, trying to get a rise out of him. The way she always did. When she was little it had been playful, a desire for his attention, a ploy to draw him to her. But it was second nature by now, far less gentle, an impulsive response to anything remotely civil between them. He had the same hair trigger, recognised it plainly in himself, so he didn’t blame her for the impulse.

‘Yeah.’ Connor agreed quietly instead, meeting her gaze steadily when it snapped to him. She shifted so that she was no longer leaning on the counter and bit at her lip guiltily.

‘That was – I was kidding.’

‘Not like you’re wrong.’ Connor countered, smirking at her weakly. She didn’t seem to have anything to say to that and he was grateful she didn’t try. Anything she would have said would have been a lie and at least she never lied to him. That was something he’d always be thankful for, even if he never said it to her. Even if it was only because she didn’t care enough to lie to him.

After a moment she moved on instead.

‘So, is that why he was here the other day?’

Connor thought back to the encounter, his first ok day in a long time. How close he’d come to ruining everything before it had even started. How new it felt to talk to someone and want to be better. How strange it was to realise Evan had never asked that of him. But he’d wanted to give it anyway. He was sure the universe had been laughing at him even then.

‘No,’ he admitted, ‘I didn’t find out until Friday. He grabbed my arm to hold me back. I didn’t even realise until I was halfway to the Principal and I saw some stupid poster for that nature hike shit. I saw the sky on the paper and though ‘oh fuck’.’

‘What did Evan say? Did he freak out?’

Connor set his glass down on the side and hummed noncommittedly.

‘I haven’t talked to him-’

Zoe cut him off with a scowl.

‘You haven’t talked to him? Why the hell not? That’s such a dick move Connor, you can’t do that. You have to talk about stuff like this, especially with someone like Evan. I know your dead inside but it’s important.’

He felt himself getting angry in the face of her snap judgement, the flames roaring to life defensively. Why did everyone always assume the worst? Why was he never good enough for them? Why couldn’t they just let him talk.

‘Shut up Zoe, you don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s not your friend.’ he spat, ‘And when the fuck would I have had the chance to talk to him, huh? He got his nose busted in the fight and then I saw him for about 5 seconds in the office before he was pulled in to talk to the Principal. Mom came and got me before he came out and then she took my phone and laptop and banned me from leaving the house. So please Zoe, tell me how the fuck I’m supposed to have talked to Evan. Because I want to. But I fucking can’t.’

Her scowl softened and she seemed to bite back her instinct to lash out at him in return. It quelled the flames in his chest somewhat but they lingered, waiting. He hated how much they controlled him and how little he controlled them. Some days he was more fire than human.

‘Sorry,’ she muttered, and while it reminded Connor of a small child being told to apologise by their parents, slight and a bit defiant, it was more than he could offer in return so he nodded and slumped back against the fridge. She was probably owed a lifetime of apologies she’d never get so he let this one slide. It wasn’t worth a fight really.

That was new too.

‘So, what’s it like then?’

‘What?’

‘The colours?’ She was looking out the window again, eyes distant as if she was trying to imagine something beyond the darkness.

‘It’s-’ he hesitated, ‘it’s a lot.’

She waited, wanting more and he thought he could at least try and give it to her.

‘I don’t know. It’s like,’ he paused again searching for the words, ‘like the world suddenly has a new dimension. I mean I always knew there was shit I couldn’t see, but I never really cared. Couldn’t really figure out why it mattered. But I think it does matter, it feels so stupidly important now. The world feels bigger somehow. More real. More alive. Shit, that sounds stupid. But it’s hard. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s just more. Everything is _more._ ’

Zoe nodded, but he didn’t think she’d really understood. There weren’t words to properly describe it and even if there were, he didn’t have them. She wouldn’t properly understand until she got her own colours, but he didn’t blame her for wondering. There weren’t many people in their lives she could ask about things like that. He knew he’d share the feeling with her if he could, a thought that shocked him even as he realised it was true. He wanted her to know what the world really looked like.

She sighed deeply as if echoing the thought, before smirking over at him.

‘I guess this proves once and for all that you do have a soul. I lost that bet.’

Despite himself he huffed out a laugh.

‘Those must have been terrible odds.’

She hummed in agreement, before the quiet settled back around them. Suddenly they were both out of words and stranded around the kitchen island. In fairness he’d never expected them to have so many in the first place, so used to his fire burning through them.

Slowly, Zoe’s eyes began to flick towards the door like she wasn’t sure whether she should leave. He got it. He understood. It seemed bizarre, almost surreal to be having a civil conversation after their years of hostility, and though they had nothing else to say, it felt like leaving would break the truce they’d stumbled into. Close to midnight on a Sunday evening. And surprisingly neither of them wanted to. But they couldn’t stay there forever, so he caught her eye and nodded. It was ok. Maybe it would be enough that they’d both wanted to stay for that moment.

Her bare feet made no sound on the tile, but the fabric of her pyjamas rustled softly with each step. He didn’t watch her go, instead taking up her vigil, staring out the window. But when she was almost gone, he called her back, one last thought stuck in his head.

‘Hey Zoe,’ he waited until he heard her stop, then tilted his head in her direction. ‘Could you find Evan at school tomorrow? Make sure he’s ok?’

The question seemed to surprise her, but after a moment she nodded. He turned away again, listening as the rustling picked back up and Zoe left. He refilled his glass, waiting a few minutes before following her back up the stairs. As he settled onto his bed he was struck by a new thought, one that settled oddly inside him. That surrender might not always mean defeat. If both sides were tired of fighting, maybe it could mean something else.

* * *

After a restless, troubled night, Monday passed in relative peace.

Connor avoided his dad and Zoe until they left for work and school respectively, and then waited until his mom was on the phone with some other book-club, PTA, WASP mom to sneak out into the backyard and down the side passage again. Lighting another joint he savoured the fog that collected in his head

He doubted he’d ever be able to get Evan to try it but he thought he might like it. The feeling. Connor had never had anyone else to get high with and he thought he might like that as well.

His mom was watching something on the tv when he got back in and didn’t notice him slip up the stairs behind her. He spent an hour or so strumming softly at the out of tune guitar he’d saved up money for but never really learned how to play, before being bored enough to flick through the most obnoxiously titled parenting book his mom had gifted him. He gave up on that after recognising a third tactic his mom had tried to use on him and instead positioned himself in the streak of sun cutting across his bed, finally weed fogged and sleep deprived enough to let the warmth lure him into a nap. Hours passed, but it felt like no time at all before there was a knock on his door startling him awake.

Shaking his head, the last of the fog fading from his system, he frowned at the door feeling disorientated. A quick check of his alarm clock told him he wasn’t late for food so he didn’t bother moving. The knock came again and this time he groaned loudly hoping it would be enough to make whoever was on the other side leave him alone.

A third knock.

‘What?’ he shouted, still scowling as Zoe’s chipper face popped around the doorframe.

‘Fuck you,’ she opened with and he half-heartedly flipped her off in return.

‘What?’ he asked again, slightly less aggressively. She didn’t make a habit of appearing at his bedroom door, and even when she did it was usually to yell through it about dinner or Connor moving her stuff. She rarely knocked.

They really we’re breaking all their routines apparently.

‘Mom’s gone out for a bit. She asked me to watch you.’

‘So what, you going to pull up a chair? Make notes?’ he gestured at his desk, inviting her in with a sarcastic sweep of his hand.

‘God you’re an ass.’ She lamented cheerfully, head disappearing from the doorway for a second to mutter something he didn’t catch before reappearing.

‘I bought you something.’ She said proudly, following it with a smirk that set him entirely on edge.

Pushing up on his elbows, Connor watched the door with trepidation. Noticing his apprehension Zoe’s smirk only deepened, and she shuffled around a bit, purposefully prolonging the moment. And then she pushed on the door again, letting it swing open further with an uncomfortable squeak of hinges. And there on the other side was Evan Hansen, nervous and red staring right back at him.

Connor probably should have expected it, but he really hadn’t. He’d thought asking Zoe to check on Evan had been a big ask. But apparently she’d decided it wasn’t enough and in that moment he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to thank her or throw something at her. Evan looked equally shocked despite having presumably been made aware of what was happening somewhere between school and the Murphy home. But almost everything seemed to startle Evan so maybe that was to be expected.

‘Oh good, more staring.’ Zoe cut in imperiously, peering between them, ‘I’ll leave you to it then, shall I? Keep it PG-13 guys.’

She laughed at her own comment as she turned away and Connor reconsidered throwing something at her. Something soft that wouldn’t hurt her but would really piss her off. That seemed fair. But by the time he’d even had the thought Zoe had already sauntered away to her room, leaving Evan in the doorframe pulling nervously on the hem of his deep blue shirt.

Swallowing nervously, and more aware of his own appearance than he’d ever been before in his life, Connor pushed himself up so that he was fully seated on the edge of his bed, and gestured for Evan to come in and close the door. He didn’t put it past Zoe to try and eavesdrop.

The latch clicked into place, loud against the silence, and then they were alone.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who missed me?  
> Yeah, me neither.
> 
> For those of you who left your lovely comments on my last chapter I'm so sorry I never came back to you directly. They honestly meant the world to me and I love reading them so much. Thank you for taking the time to tell me what you thought! This one's for you.

Connor couldn’t remember silence ever being so loud. Obnoxiously, skin-crawlingly so. Evan seemed to have actually frozen across the room, his hand stuck on the door handle, face tucked into his chest defensively. It conjured images of turtles and snails and protective shells, though the thick polyester weave of a Walmart t-shirt probably wasn’t going to provide the same level of defence. For a worrying moment Connor thought that Evan might have even stopped breathing altogether in his evident panic, but looking closer Connor could make out the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders, just this side of hyperventilation and perfectly silent.

It wasn’t the best start.

Connor cleared his throat to break the quiet and Evan’s head shot up as if suddenly remembering he wasn’t alone. In colour he looked smaller, more delicate somehow, and not for the first time Connor wondered how he’d made it so far without life chewing him up and spitting him out. Sure there were teeth marks all over him, indented in every movement like life was desperately trying to leave a claim, but there was still a terrible sweetness in him that the world hadn’t quite managed to steal away. It was all the more evident in the new details; the pink shadow of a permanently bitten lip, the wisps of lightly tugged blond hair, the peach indentations of harshly pressed fingertips against skin, they all painted a picture Connor hadn’t quite seen before. A variation on the classic. Evan rewritten.

He could feel Evan’s eyes as they lingered across his own skin, and he wondered if Evan was reaching the same conclusions. Evan knew more about him than anyone ever had, a sad realisation to have after such a short friendship, but even Evan didn’t know everything. Shouldn’t know everything. But suddenly cast into technicolour Connor worried that there wouldn’t be anywhere left to hide the darkest parts of himself anymore, and there were so many to hide.

Desperate to distract Evan from staring directly into his soul, Connor cleared his throat again and fumbled for words, any words.

‘I didn’t know you’d be coming.’

Uneven teeth slipped over Evan’s bottom lip to bite down subconsciously, and though Connor had always been able to see the white it was odd to watch them align with the agitated skin all too used to being bitten. Even his red hadn’t been able to pick out the intricacy of the colours before.

‘Y-es I-I’m sor-sorry.’ It was the worst he’d ever heard Evan stutter and it set his own heart racing in sympathy and useless guilt.

‘No, it’s,’ he paused, ‘it’s good. I’m glad. We probably have some shit to talk about anyway don’t we?’

Connor huffed a laugh as he spoke trying to lighten the mood a bit, and Evan mirrored it with a smile. It wasn’t a great smile, still wobbly and hindered by the teeth still buried in his lip, but his breathing was no longer verging on a panic attack, so Connor counted it as a victory anyway. He realised that staring at Evan probably wasn’t helping either, so he forced himself to flop backwards onto his bed, spread across its width, and directed his next statement to the ceiling.

‘Sit down if you want Hansen.’ He flapped a hand around demonstratively, before giving Evan a chance to react. He wondered how obvious this air of forced casualness was to Evan, his heart still hammering in his chest and his hands inexplicably sweating. Desperately he wished he was still high, but the mellow edge had slipped away somewhere in his nap and he was sober and vulnerable again. It made him feel trapped.

He started as the bed dipped beside him.

The bed twitched in time with Evan so Connor didn’t even have to turn his head to know nervous fingers were back in place on Evan’s shirt. His eyes closed briefly on another long inhale and he could imagine it in vivid detail, the world strangely back to black and white, like the colours hadn’t quite caught up with his imagination yet.

‘A-are you ok?’

And wasn’t that the question? Hadn’t that always been the question? The shadow that chased him, taunting him with its complexity and unanswerability. What did it mean? He’d asked himself the question, been asked it by sympathetic eyes and sneered mouths alike, but there wasn’t a simple answer to a question like that no matter how many times it was asked.

He could say yes and point to his four walls and full family, the food on his table and the keys to his car. He could look to a life built only to enhance him, worlds of learning and privilege and doors unlocked before he’d even touched the handles. Experiences laid bare at his feet by virtue of being born into the ‘right’ kind of family at the ‘right’ kind of time. He could recall moments of real unbridled emotion, the very peaks of his life and argue that from that angle he must be ok, because with the places he’d been and the opportunities he’d been given, how could he be anything else? Wouldn’t that be selfish?

But that wasn’t quite right. That wasn’t quite enough.

He could say no and point to the fresh bruises across his skin, the older scars doing their best to fade from view. He could open his mouth and try to explain the world through his eyes, the cruel irony of a world purpose built for the idea of a child but not the reality of the one living it. He could mimic the words thrown at him day after day until they felt written into his bones, the voices of his parents, his teachers, his peers on each and every one. He could stretch into the void around him and lament on how the passing years had only grown the space, leaving him isolated and alone and not ok at all.

But that wasn’t quite right either. Not anymore.

‘Are you?’ he asked instead, cowardly and ill prepared to answer himself.

‘Yeah,’ Evan chirped too quickly and too brightly. He repeated it again, a little more subdued, and then ‘Sure.’

Evan was a terrible liar because he never really meant to lie. He lied by accident, instinctually and defensively to protect both himself and other people. But lying was never the real intention, more of an unwanted by-product of a life spent filtering. And because he never really meant to, when he did find himself lying, he ended up backpedalling messily, only highlighting the truths he’d been trying to hide in the first place.

‘Liar,’ Connor gloated hypocritically, shifting back up to his elbows to watch Evan frown at the opposite wall. He didn’t deny it though, couldn’t without lying again.

‘I should probably be thanking you,’ Connor cut in as Evan was still trying to work out what to say next. 

‘W-why?’ Evan hadn’t ever told him that his own eyes were brown, but they were all Connor could see when they were suddenly turned on him. It was a dirty kind of brown, unappealing and dull at first until you looked a little closer and noticed the array of swirling shades, fighting for space. They were deep and uncertain in a way their grey counterparts never could be, like they wanted to know everything but couldn’t bear to.

‘The suspension. My parents basically crapped themselves when they heard I wasn’t getting kicked out of school, and the only reason I can think of for that happening is you. I don’t know what you did but I’m willing to bet you’re the reason I’m locked in here instead of on my way to some military reform school right about now.’

‘Actually,’ Evan started, pulling at the cover of Connor’s bed before realising what he was doing and abruptly stopping. ‘Actually, it was-wasn’t me.’

Sensing Connor’s confusion Evan barrelled on, his words picking up pace as he dipped back into his well of nervous energy. The way his voice cycled through different pitches it felt a bit like listening to a stuttering spoken word poem.

‘I mean I-I tried, I really did. I told Mr DeWitt everything that happened. The truth. I-I said what they said about you, the re-really terrible stuff and told him that that stuff was just as violent a-a-and damaging as anything physical, b-but I don’t think it really helped. Because they lied about everything and he said you-your record wasn’t very good, so I didn’t know what to do. I-I couldn’t fix it.’

His hands gesticulated wildly as he spoke, the frustration clear on his face and Connor found himself hiding a smile.

‘So what happened?’

Wide brown eyes turned to him again.

‘Jared,’ he said like even he was shocked to say it, ‘Jared happened.

‘H-he was there that day, in the hallway. He saw it a-all. After we both got sent home he went to the Principal and asked to t-talk to him. Everything he said backed up my story, b-but he also found out that one of the girls that-that were with Dennis and his friends that day had filmed the end of the f-fight. I-I don’t know why or how he found out, a-and I don’t know how he convinced her to give it to him, but she, she did and he showed Mr DeWitt. I-it missed the beginning, but it proved that the other guys were lying about m-my role at least, and it proved that they weren’t tr-trying to stop the fight at all.

‘It didn’t show what th-they were saying to you at the beginning so they couldn’t be punished for that, but I-I think Mr DeWitt thinks we were telling the truth now. They all got suspended too. A-and I only got a detention.’

Connor’s mind was reeling but it snapped back at that.

‘Wait, why the fuck did you get a detention?’

Evan shrugged like he hadn’t really considered it.

‘I don’t really know. For being i-involved? For not getting an a-adult involved?’

‘That is bullshit, you were just trying to help. You should fight it.’

Something odd flickered across Evan’s face, something sad and shadowed. Evan shook his head and talked over it though, leaving it impossible for Connor to acknowledge.

‘I-it was just a lunchtime detention. I did it today. At lunch. I really d-didn’t mind it that much; it was nice to have somewhere quiet to sit and do my homework.’

It was exactly the type of resigned positivity Connor expected from Evan, his determination to find something mediocre in the heap of injustice around him and treat it like it was a blessing. Like it made up for the overall unfairness of the situation.

‘You could have gone to the library to do that, they didn’t have any fucking reason to give you a detention. Like you did something wrong. It’s fucking bullshit.’

The look crossed Evan’s face again and this time Connor caught it, sitting fully upright.

‘Why does your face keep doing that?’ the look disappeared into surprise as Evan registered the abrupt question.

‘Doing what?’

‘That look like someone just told you something really sad and you’re trying to process it.’

He waved a hand at Evan’s face, withdrawing a bit when Evan leaned backwards. He didn’t flinch away though like he thought Connor was going to hurt him. That was good. He did drop his eyes to his lap though, his nerves once again on their upward cycle which probably didn’t bode well.

‘You’re angry,’ Evan said quietly to his hands.

‘Well yeah,’

‘A-and you think I-I should fight back on the punishment. You think it’s wrong.’

‘Well, _yeah_.’ Connor was starting to feel like he’d lost track of the conversation, but he couldn’t for the life of him work out where he’d veered off the path. Evan sighed and bit down on his lip again.

‘Connor, you didn’t even _try_ to fight back when they asked you what happened. Y-you didn’t say anything.’

He blinked and for a moment he wished he was back with the black and white, because grey eyes had never looked quite as sad and lost as brown ones.

‘You didn’t do anything Evan, but I did. I started that fight, I wanted to hurt them and that’s what I did, we all know that. There wasn’t really much point in saying anything-’

‘No.’ Evan said sharply, cutting him off.

‘No,’ he said again a bit softer, ‘maybe you deserved to be punished, but you didn’t start that fight Connor. Y-you didn’t. Maybe you started the physical fight but that’s not all fighting is. T-they said those things wanting you to get angry, that was w-where the fight started. But you didn’t say that. And they didn’t say that, so no one would have known Connor. You’re angry that I was punished for something not true, but I’m angry you almost let the same thing happen to you. I’m angry that that’s p-probably happened before. You th-thought you were going to get expelled and y-you didn’t even try to fight it. I’m angry that you don’t see that that’s wrong.’

It took several long moments for Connor to process it all, and even when he had it didn’t quite make sense. He’d thrown the first punch, thrown many more after that, so of course people would say it was his fault. Because it _was_ his fault. They always said that, telling him he should work harder on his breathing techniques, channel his anger into sport or volunteering or some other shit like that, be _better_ otherwise all he had waiting for him was the inside of a cell.

Evidently his face had telegraphed enough of his thoughts because Evan’s shaky sigh broke the silence. The bed bounced a little as Evan shifted and then there was a warm arm not quite pressed to his, a knee centimetres away.

‘I’m not saying you did nothing wrong Connor, you did.’ Evan’s voice was quiet but surprisingly steady, ‘But you’re not the only one who did something wrong, and you weren’t the first person to do something wrong. That’s just as important. Taking blame doesn’t always mean taking _all_ the blame. Y-you understand that right?’

He didn’t, but he nodded anyway, desperate to end the conversation before the pressure in this chest and throat got too much.

The moment passed, and the warmth from Evan’s arm was starting to seep through Connor’s sleeve, when he suddenly groaned dramatically and dropped his head into his hands. He regretted it instantly as he agitated his bruises, and he groaned again for good measure.

Peripherally, he could see Evan’s hands come up to flit uncertainly.

‘Are you ok? What happened? Should I get Zoe?’

Connor waved him off, tilting his head so Evan could see he wasn’t in any actual pain.

‘I’m good, I’m good, just realising I’m going to have to _thank_ Kleinman. Is it too late to opt for expulsion?’

Evan honest to god giggled, which was a noise Connor was pretty sure his four walls had never heard before.

‘If it h-helps, he’s equally upset by the prospect of having to apologise for everything he’s said about you.’

Connor’s head shot back up so he could stare incredulously at Evan who’s eyes were wide and innocent but seemed to clenching his jaw to stop a smile.

‘Oh god Evan, tell me you’re joking. I don’t want that. I really don’t want that. That sounds fucking horrible.’

The smile broke free noisily, weird and joyous and Connor knew that he was going to hate whatever conversation was waiting for him with Jared Kleinman, but there was solace in the fact that at least it made Evan laugh. And at least Jared was going to hate it even more than he would.

The roar of a motorbike cut through the house from the road, obnoxiously loud. Evan startled at it, but Connor knew it belonged to the asshole who lived further up the road trying desperately to cling to some semblance of youth even as he pushed 50. He gunned the engine wherever he went, mortifying the local HOA, but their judgement had yet to do anything more than egg him on. His mom had pointed out the bike once when they’d passed by it, tutting loudly as if the man could hear her. Bored and pissed off Connor remembered telling her he wanted a bike even though the idea of it had never really appealed to him. Predictably it had ended in a shouting match on the street, his mom saying ‘no’ and ‘can’t’ and ‘no son of mine’, him responding with ‘my life’ and ‘bitch’ and ‘unfair’. He didn’t even want a bike, but he’d lost track a long time ago of when he was playing a role and when the role was playing him.

But the body of the bike had been red. He remembered that most of all. He guessed it didn’t really matter anymore.

‘So, pretty weird right? The colours?’

‘Yeah,’ Evan breathed.

‘Have you told anyone?’ Connor tried to smile when Evan looked over at him, wanting to make sure Evan knew he was just genuinely curious and not accusing him of anything.

‘Uh, I t-told my mom. And Jared - Jared knows. Have y-you?’

Connor took a moment to be surprised that Zoe had decided to be a little more subtle than he’d given her credit for. Considering her tactless deposit of Evan into his room, he’d assumed she’d mined him for all the information she could on the journey, but apparently that wasn’t the case. He wondered if it was out of respect to him or Evan that had stopped her, though he had a feeling he knew.

‘Just Zoe. I haven’t really seen anyone else anyway.’

‘What about your parents?’

Connor let himself flop back down on the bed again, sighing up to the cracks in his ceiling.

‘Nope. We don’t exactly talk much as it is, and I really have no desire to listen to them lecture me about something they have no idea about and that’s none of their business.’

‘They wouldn’t be h-happy for you?’

Honestly, Connor had no idea how they would react to the news. Bonding so young was not unheard of but it was still rare enough to be interesting so they might be thrilled that their son had finally brought some kind of accolade to the family. On the other hand they might resent him for finding what they never could, for stumbling into it by accident when they’d spent years coming up empty before finally settling on each other. The idea that he, with all his failings and disappointments, succeeded where they failed might only drive the wedge of bitterness further between them.

But worst of all, they might think that this would solve everything wrong in his life. That it would magically fix all of his problems and he’d finally become the perfect son, brother, soulmate. He didn’t want to have to tell them that he was still broken, but that he was just broken in colour now.

‘I don’t know,’ he settled on, ‘we stopped understanding each other a long time ago.’

There was another shift of movement next to him and then to his surprise Evan began to carefully lower himself down until he was lying on his back next to Connor. He kept his eyes on the ceiling even when Connor tipped his head to peer at him curiously, noting his interlocked hands fidgeting restlessly against his stomach.

‘You don’t have to tell them,’ Evan murmured quietly, ‘not until you’re ready.’

Connor blamed the foreign warmth in his chest for not catching the next sentence before it slipped out.

‘They’re going to like you. A lot more than they like me.’

The resignation must have been evident in his voice as Evan shifted again and then the back of his hand was resting lightly against the back of Connor’s own against the duvet.

‘Well, I-I like you. A lot – a lot more than I l-like them.’

Connor swallowed around the thickness in his throat, heart pounding at the earnest statement that sounded an awful lot like a confession.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah’

Connor nudged his hand back, so it bumped into the warmth of Evan’s skin.

‘I like you to,’ he admitted honestly, the words catching a little like they were unprepared to come out. It wasn’t a sentiment he shared very often, and one he wasn’t sure he’d ever meant in the same way before. Evan didn’t respond though, leaving Connor stranded in the loaded silence that followed, worried he’d read the situation wrong.

Finally, when it was clear Evan wasn’t going to say anything, he turned his head to the side to watch the tide of ticks washing over Evan’s face and try and work out where he’d gone. Evan’s brow was furrowed, eyes blinking irregularly and his teeth were agitating the bruised skin of his lip again. He seemed to have gotten caught on something and it was interesting to watch the indecision filter across his features so clearly. And then all of a sudden the lines of his face smoothed out and he twisted abruptly towards Connor.

The first thing Connor noticed was the pain. The low throbbing of his bruised cheekbone exploded as something firm collided with it sending sparks ricocheting through him. He gasped with it, completely unprepared for the sensation, and that was when he noticed pair of lips pressed against his at an uncomfortable angle, dry and cracked and insistent. Still processing the pain, it took him another moment to put everything together, at which point Evan was already pulling away and sitting up, rubbing at his own injured nose which Connor assumed was what had collided with him so forcefully.

He stared at the side of Evan’s face, at the furious blush creeping into his skin, and rose up next to him until they were sitting side by side again. He brought his hand to his own cheek first, ghosting cautiously to check everything was alright and intact, before dragging them over his lips and pressing down against the phantom sensation. His mind abuzz, still 3 steps behind, he had no hope in stopping the smile spreading across his face.

‘I’m going to do us both a favour and say that that was just some misguided attempt at trying to headbutt me.’

Evan had somehow managed to go both pale white and beet red at the same time, eyes locked firmly on the carpet as he clenched his hands in the sheets either side of his legs. His shoulders stiffened at Connor’s words but after a pause he nodded softly, head dipping down even further.

‘Because there is no way in hell we are ever admitting that that was our first kiss.’

Evan’s head shot up, and Connor wasted a moment to laugh at the shocked expression on his face before he reached out to slip a hand around the curve of Evan’s jaw and pulled him in. It was still awkward for a moment with Evan’s hands hovering, his eyes wide open and his mouth remaining lax beneath Connor’s. But the next second one hand settled on Connor’s shoulder, his eyes dropped shut and his lips parted slightly, pressing back against the kiss firmly. Evan’s lips were chapped and dry, and his grip on Connor’s shoulder was slightly too tight, but Connor hadn’t felt anything like it before. It felt nice and sweet and genuine, and when Evan pulled away to gasp in a breath, Connor dragged him back in, chasing the feeling.

Minutes passed pressed against each other, slowly working out how they fit best together, and adjusting until they were moving seamlessly. Evan tensed when Connor’s hand drifted below his shoulders, so he kept his palm curled around his neck, guiding him in when they slipped too far apart. Evan’s casted hand had wound up fisted in the front of Connor’s t-shirt, directly over his heart and Connor would have been worried that Evan would notice how fast it was beating if he couldn’t feel Evan’s speeding just the same.

Stealing himself, he slid his tongue over the seam of Evan’s lips, hesitating when Evan stilled against him for a moment before sighing into the kiss. Connor felt incredible here in his tiny corner of the world, pressed up against the other half of his soul, sharing desperate breaths. He felt invincible.

The feeling crumbled as the door flew open, squeaking noisily on its hinges. They leapt apart, turning frantic eyes to the doorway where Zoe stood gaping at them.

‘Oh my god,’ she whispered, her face caught somewhere between shocked and delighted. Next to him, Evan pulled his knees up to his chest, hiding behind them. Self-consciously Connor wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, realising too late that it only served to draw Zoe’s attention to him. Her eyes zeroed in, a smirk dancing across her face.

‘Oh my _god_ ,’ she breathed again, verging on hysterical.

‘Get out of my room,’ Connor spat in return despite the fact she was still technically in the hallway. To spite him she stepped across the threshold, grinning sardonically at him as she did.

‘I see finally getting some doesn’t make _you_ any less of a dick.’

Evan curled up a little tighter, tucking his face into his knees. Connor wondered if he should try and comfort him. He could place an arm around his shoulders or a hand on his knee, but it all seemed too much, too intimate. Even with the guy he just spent five minutes kissing. And he really didn’t need to give Zoe any more ammunition at this point.

‘Did you want something or are you just here to piss me off? We were kinda busy.’

Evan made a mortified noise into his knees but Connor ignored it in favour of glaring at Zoe.

She opened her mouth to bite back but was distracted by a noise downstairs. Pausing, she peered off down the hallway for a second, but the sound didn’t get any closer.

‘Mom’s home,’ she said instead. When neither of them moved she rolled her eyes and stepped forward again. ‘Which means Evan has to come with me.’

‘What? Why?’

‘Because you’re supposed to be on solitary house arrest dumbass, not making out with your boyfriend.’ She rolled her eyes again, this time gesturing for Evan to follow her which he did on slightly shaky legs. She ushered him to the door but instead of following her out Evan paused, looking back at Connor while he picked nervously at the doorjamb.

‘See you on Monday?’ he asked cautiously as if he still thought Connor might still laugh in his face. Broken in colour, both of them.

‘Of course. You want to walk together? I’m out car privileges for a month.’

Evan smiled, posture relaxing.

‘Yeah, I-I’ll pick you up at 8,’ his voice dropped a little quieter, ‘Goodbye Connor’

‘Bye Evan’ Connor parroted, sounding unbearably fond even to himself. Evan nodded once before he disappeared round the corner following Zoe’s hushed whispering and quiet gagging noises. Connor was sure she was doing them for his benefit, but for once he couldn’t bring himself to care.

For the first time there was something like hope bubbling up inside of him. Cliché and warm. Not strong enough to burn through the darkness that had set down roots in him a long time ago, he wasn’t sure anything ever would be, but enough to let him breathe a little easier. Enough to make the dark seem lighter.

Enough to make Evan worth trying for.

But that was tomorrow’s problem, and next week’s problem and next year’s problem.

For now he just felt happy, and he was going to hold onto that for as long as he possibly could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've marked this story finished, but it is possible there may be an epilogue (if there's a specific scene you want to see let me know). But with how bad I was updating this last chapter, I wanted to at least get this to a point where it could live on its own.  
> I hope you've enjoyed the journey, this is definitely one of the longest things I've ever written. I'm sorry for how long you had to wait. I hope it was worth it!


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